


Your Heda Lives

by lexaisweakforclarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexaisweakforclarke/pseuds/lexaisweakforclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa meet again three months after the events of season two.</p>
<p>
  <em>Lexa was still lost in her thoughts when Indra opened the door. She called out, “Heda,” and Lexa’s head snapped up as several other warriors followed her into the room. The last warrior to enter was carrying a thin, limp form, caked with dirt and what appeared to be dried blood.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Commander crossed the room to meet them as he laid the body on the rug. *What is the meaning of-* Lexa’s words caught in her throat, and she felt her heart skip a beat as the figure stirred slightly, their eyes fluttering open slightly to reveal a hint of blue.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Clarke,” she gasped.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken (note that some Trigedasleng is set off by quotation marks as regular because they are commonly used phrases on the show).
> 
> I will try to update regularly, as I have the plot of this work planned out, though my busy schedule this semester may interfere. You can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

_*Lexa,* Anya said as she squatted down, pushing a loose braid out of the small girl’s face before putting her hands on her shoulders. Dark eyes surrounded by smudges of black war paint scanned bright green ones for signs of any emotion at all. Finding nothing but an expectant stare on the young girl’s face, Anya continued. *Lexa, they have prepared Heda’s body. It is time for the Conclave.*_

_Lexa merely nodded in response and moved to step outside the hut, Anya following her. The girl had proved herself many times over to be brave, even for a Wood Clan warrior, despite being so small in stature and so young._

_The two joined the group of warriors surrounding the funeral pyre on which the late commander’s body lied. Standing nearest to the pyre was a tall man with long dark hair and beard who held a lit torch aloft, illuminating the dark, swirling tattoos that ran down either side of his face._

_The Commander’s Second began to speak. *Our fearless Heda has fallen, and the time has come for her spirit to select a new vessel through which to command and guide our great Clan. Let the Conclave begin.*_

_Lexa shifted into place with the other warriors and waited her turn to approach the pyre. Stepping forward, she pulled the dagger from its sheath on her right thigh. She looked at her Heda’s lifeless body, her eyes closed in death, her clothing still bloodied from her final battle. Heda had carried the Trikru to victory over a neighboring clan, sacrificing her life in the process._

_Lexa unflinchingly pushed the tip of her dagger into her left palm and sliced downward. She held her hand up, and as blood trickled down her wrist onto the Commander’s body, she whispered, “Jus drein jus daun.”_

_Once all of the warriors had completed the ritual, the Commander’s Second moved to stand directly in front of the pyre, holding the torch high. “Yu gonplei ste odon,” they all said in unison as he touched the flame to the wood. The fire quickly engulfed the pyre and leapt high into the sky as the flames spread over the Commander’s body._

_A quick intake of breath immediately cut through the silence. The warriors quickly looked among themselves to identify the source of the noise. Toward the back of the group stood Lexa, her eyes rolling back into place as her hand moved to her chest to steady her breathing._

_All eyes followed the small girl as she strode purposefully to the front of the group to stand next to the former Commander’s Second. Meeting their stares, she began to speak, her voice loud and commanding. *I have chosen. My life continues on, and I will continue to guide and lead you. You are my people. My fight is not over. Your Heda lives.*_

_Immediately the warriors dipped their heads slightly and began to chant, “Heda!” Lexa’s eyes found Anya’s as she scanned the chanting crowd, finding a glimmer there. Anya nodded once, and Lexa allowed a slight smile to grace her lips, her eyes shining brightly with power._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_*Stand down!* Lexa, face covered with blood, smeared war paint, and sweat, strode toward Clarke who stood at the entrance to Mount Weather._

_Clarke turned, confusion evident in her blue eyes as she addressed Lexa. “What is this?” She turned to see some of the captives stumbling out of the entrance. “They’re surrendering?”_

_“Not quite,” the Commander replied._

_Clarke scanned the released captives wrapped in red blankets, noticing the absence of her friends. Realization hit her, and she turned to Lexa, her eyes searching the Commander’s stoic face. “What did you do?”_

_“What you would have done. Save my people.” Lexa’s words felt cold on Clarke’s ears._

_“Where are my people?”_

_“I’m sorry, Clarke. They weren’t part of the deal,” Lexa responded before turning to cut the bindings around Emerson’s wrists._

_“You made the right choice, Commander,” Emerson said, and his words stung Clarke._

_Lincoln stepped forward, confusion etched across his face. “What is this?”_

_“Your Commander’s made a deal,” Clarke spat out bitterly._

_“What about the prisoners from the Ark?”_

_Never taking her eyes off Lexa, Clarke stated, “They’ll all be killed. But you don’t care about that, do you?”_

_Lexa spoke forcefully though every word cut her like a knife. “I do care, Clarke. But I made this choice with my head and not my heart. The duty to protect my people comes first.” The look on Clarke’s face, the glistening of her eyes, burned Lexa._

_“Please don’t do this,” Clarke implored._

_Lexa swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, Clarke,” was all she could manage._

_Lincoln pleaded, “Commander, not like this. Let us fight!”_

_“No,” Lexa stated firmly. “The deal is done.” The entrance closed with finality as Lexa turned to her warrior. *Sound the retreat.*_

_The warrior blew the horn, and the Grounders began to turn around. “You, too,” Lexa said, looking directly at Lincoln. “All our people withdraw. Those were the terms.”_

_Disbelief marked Lincoln’s face. “They’ll be slaughtered! Let me help them!”_

_*Take him.* Several warriors marched forward to grab Lincoln, who threw his fists and elbows in a vain attempt to fight them off._

_Lexa looked deeply into Clarke’s eyes as she said, “May we meet again.” Clarke’s mouth was slightly agape, her eyes wet, and Lexa was unable to hold her gaze for a second longer. Turning, Lexa strode back up the hill, her own eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over, feeling the heat of Clarke’s stare into her retreating figure._

_Once back at camp, Lexa commanded her people to bandage the wounded captives and prepare them to make the journey back home. *Come to me the minute they are ready,* Lexa commanded to Indra before slipping into her tent alone._

_The second she crossed the threshold and the flap shut behind her, she allowed herself to cry. Images of Clarke standing heartbroken in front of the entrance to Mount Weather, Clarke captured by the Mountain Men, or worse yet, Clarke lying lifeless on the mountain were etched into her mind, searing her like a branding iron, and her vision became completely blurred as endless tears fell._

The Commander’s eyes shone with brightness as she snapped herself out of her reverie. Standing alone over the plans laid across the table in her war room in Polis, she quickly wiped her face with her hands. Silently chiding herself over her inability to focus, she smoothed out the piece of paper directly in front of her. But a speck of blue on the table sent images of those piercing, bright blue eyes filled with tears, anger, hurt, betrayal immediately spinning into her head. It had been three months since she had left Clarke alone on that mountain, and not a day had passed that she didn’t become consumed by pain from the price of her decision to break the alliance and save her people when she was by herself.

When Lexa’s scouts had reported the news of the Sky People’s stunning victory over the Mountain Men, Lexa’s shoulders had sunk with relief. But then they continued to inform her that Clarke was nowhere to be seen at the Sky People’s camp as far as they could tell, and a lump immediately formed in her throat.

For all Lexa knew, Clarke was dead somewhere in the woods. The scouts she had commanded to continue searching for Clarke had been unable to find her for three weeks, and Lexa was forced to order them to cease after some of her warriors began to notice why Lexa kept sending them out. They still had to operate under the assumption that the Sky People would one day strike back after harnessing whatever technology and weapons they could scavenge from Mount Weather, and the Ice Nation Queen was forever a looming threat at the back of her mind. Lexa could not afford to waste time and resources on searching for Clarke, or she would appear weak.

Lexa was still lost in her thoughts when Indra opened the door. She called out, “Heda,” and Lexa’s head snapped up as several other warriors followed her into the room. The last warrior to enter was carrying a thin, limp form, caked with dirt and what appeared to be dried blood.

The Commander crossed the room to meet them as he laid the body on the rug. *What is the meaning of-* Lexa’s words caught in her throat, and she felt her heart skip a beat as the figure stirred slightly, their eyes fluttering open slightly to reveal a hint of blue.

“Clarke,” she gasped.


	2. I Didn't Want This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Swallowing the lump in her throat, Clarke tightened her grip on the gun and steadied her hand. She could feel the moisture collecting in her eyes. "I didn't want this."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Once again, flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_.

_Clarke let go of Monty, who looked at her and Bellamy wistfully before continuing inside the Camp Jaha gate._

_Bellamy sidled up to her. “I think we deserve a drink.”_

_Clarke knew he didn’t mean it as a way of celebration, but she was still repulsed by the thought. Going through the gate to be surrounded by the people she had saved, the people she had killed for? Unthinkable. “Have one for me,” she solemnly replied._

_Bellamy noticed her hesitation and the concern etched across her face. “Hey,” he said, looking into her eyes. “We can get through this.”_

_She really wished he wouldn’t do this. She had already made her decision, and no amount of words would stop her. There was nothing anyone could do to convince her otherwise. “I’m not going in,” she said, trying to convey how serious she was with a look._

_Bellamy stared at her. “Clarke, if you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven,” he said. “Please come inside.”_

_Clarke wanted Bellamy to understand that she didn’t want to, couldn’t enter the gates of Camp Jaha now or any time in the foreseeable future. “Take care of them for me.” Despite how much she had hated him when the dropship first landed, she understood now that he was the only one here who might be capable of understanding what she was going through._

_She realized he didn’t fully understand her situation when he tried again, “Clarke-”_

_“Seeing their faces every day is just going to remind me of what I did to get them here,” she interrupted. There was only one person she knew who would be able to comprehend her decisions, her grief, her heartache on a level no one else could._

_“What we did,” he corrected her. He looked deeply into her eyes before continuing, “You don’t have to do this alone.”_

_Clarke broke his gaze to look at her mother lying on a stretcher being tended to. Her mother who had come so close to dying just before… No, she couldn’t think of that._

_“I bear it so they don’t have to,” she said. She hadn’t asked to become the leader of her people. Still, she had taken up the role as if she had been born for it. She knew that her position required her to make sacrifices._

_Bellamy seemed to finally accept Clarke’s resolve but still looked worried. “Where are you gonna go?”_

_A thought appeared in her mind only for a split second before she chased it away, not giving it time to fully form and take root. She turned back to face Bellamy and answered honestly, “I don’t know.”_

_She couldn’t bear to look at Camp Jaha and her friends standing inside any longer, and she knew that the longer she stood outside the gate with Bellamy, the more likely it would be that someone else would come along to try to stop her when they realized what she was doing. Tears in her eyes, she quickly kissed Bellamy’s cheek and repeated the words of the only person she knew would understand. “May we meet again.”_

_With that, she turned and began to walk away from Camp Jaha with only a dagger strapped around her ankle and a gun by her hip. Each step she put between herself and the gate seemed to even her ragged breathing and clear her head just a bit. But there was no easy cure for her broken heart._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke wandered for days, keeping track of the direction she was heading by monitoring the sunrise and sunset, verifying her conclusions each time she saw moss growing on a rock or a tree. She had been foolish to simply walk out of Camp Jaha without taking any supplies, and the least she could do for herself was stay aware of how to get back should she ever need to go back. Not that she could imagine herself wanting to.

On the fourth day she had come across a small cave and decided to spend a few days there to collect her bearings and scavenge for food and supplies she could take with her on her journey to…nowhere.

Clarke sat just inside the mouth of the cave with her back to the rocks. She pulled the hem of her shirt up to wipe her sweaty face before drying the equally sweaty palms of her hands on her pants. Pulling her dagger from its sheath, she picked up one of the long sticks she had gathered and began to carve the tip into a point. Unfortunately, whittling was a task that didn’t require much concentration, and her mind began to wander.

_“This ends now,” Clarke said into the radio, punctuating each word. “Release my people.”_

_“I can’t do that,” was the slightly muffled reply that came from the radio._

_Dante Wallace saw the look on Clarke’s face at the response and tried to reason with her. “It would mean the end of our people, Clarke.”_

_The end of their people? What about her people? If everyone else was going to act irrationally and selfishly to protect their people, so could she. Furious, Clarke whipped around and drew her gun, pointing straight at Dante’s chest._

_Bellamy scrambled away from the man and, seeing the look in her eyes, tersely said, “Clarke, we need him.” As if words would ever stop her. Words had never gotten her anywhere. She wanted to see action. She was tired of empty promises._

_“And I need his son to believe me,” she responded forcefully, never taking her eyes off Dante or letting her grip on the gun falter. Panic flashed in the old man’s eyes as she brought the radio up to her mouth again. “Don’t make me do this,” she said to Cage, though Dante felt as if she was talking to him as well._

_There was a pause before a reply came through the radio, immediately making her stomach drop. “Dad? I’ll take care of our people.”_

_Dante tried to reason with her once more. “None of us has a choice here, Clarke,” he said, his voice wavering slightly._

_In her mind, Clarke let loose a bitter chuckle. Of course everyone had a choice. Saying otherwise was just making up excuses._

_Swallowing the lump in her throat, Clarke tightened her grip on the gun and steadied her hand. She could feel the moisture collecting in her eyes. “I didn’t want this.” She hoped Dante understood the choice she was about to make._

_“Neither did I-” Dante began as Clarke pulled the trigger, the impact of the bullet cutting him off. He looked surprised and hurt, more than just physically, as he stared into Clarke’s unblinking eyes. Both Monty’s and Bellamy’s mouths were agape as they looked frantically from Dante to Clarke, but she didn’t notice them._

_Clarke’s heart was pounding in her ears and throat, and her breathing was almost out of control. She felt like she might vomit as she watched Dante’s knees start to crumble beneath him. She watched as his shirt became dark red and heard his gasps of breath, her finger still on the radio button, transmitting the sounds of the room._

_When he fell lifeless to the floor, she brought the radio to her lips, slowly lowering her gun. “Listen to me very carefully,” she said quietly, voice unwavering. There was no need to raise her voice; she was sure that she had Cage’s full attention. “I will not stop until my people are free. If you don’t let them go, I will irradiate Level 5.” She desperately hoped that Cage would use his head and make the right decision, not letting the fury and grief coursing through his heart cloud his mind. It was clear she had the upper hand here and would stop at nothing to see her people safe._

_She realized she was wrong moments later when she looked at the monitor and saw Emerson in the hall charging toward the control room._

Clarke scraped the dagger down the end of the stick forcefully and quickly now, almost slicing her other hand a few times in the process. She felt nauseous from the memory and was angry at herself for not being able to keep her thoughts in the present. Furrowing her brows, she pressed even harder, wood shavings flying off the end of the stick.

Just then she heard a leaf crunch several yards away, and she immediately tightened her grip on the dagger and pushed herself up into a standing position to defend herself against whatever animal or human could possibly be out there. If it was a person, they probably didn’t have a bow with them or she would’ve been hit by an arrow by now. She turned to face the source of the noise and almost dropped her dagger when she saw the person.

“Clarke?” a familiar voice called. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day will come when I end a chapter without a cliff-hanger, but it is not this day.
> 
> Once we catch up to the present, where Clarke's muddy, bloody body lies at Lexa's feet, the flashbacks (with my added commentary on Clarke's thoughts and actions) won't be as prominent. Planning to get there soon...ish.
> 
> I'm taking the GRE at the end of this week, so the next chapter will probably be posted late Friday night or Saturday. Unless I use this story to procrastinate, which might happen because I'm really excited to continue the story and get back to the present.
> 
> You can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com!


	3. I Won't Go With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She furrowed her brows in confusion and began to spew a string of questions. “What do you mean I’m safe? How did you find me?” She paused briefly before straightening her back and continuing, “I won’t go with you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken (note that some Trigedasleng is set off by quotation marks because they are commonly used phrases on the show).
> 
> You can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

“Lincoln?” Clarke asked incredulously. She furrowed her brows in confusion and began to spew a string of questions. “What do you mean I’m safe? How did you find me?” She paused briefly before straightening her back and continuing, “I won’t go with you.”

“Slow down, Clarke,” Lincoln said as he raised his hands in an attempt to ward off her rapid-fire commentary. “I said you’re safe because you are holding that dagger so tightly your knuckles are white, and you looked ready to stab me,” he said, inclining his head toward Clarke’s left hand.

Clarke glanced down and realized just how tightly she was gripping the knife. She relaxed her hand a little before looking back at Lincoln.

“And, seriously? How did I find you? You weren’t exactly being quiet. I could hear you from several paces away,” Lincoln continued.

Clarke’s cheeks reddened a little at this. She really should put more effort into being silent since she was alone in the woods with only a dagger and a gun. The gun was useful of course but only until the bullets ran out.

“What were you even doing to make so much noise?”

Clarke blushed even more, much to her frustration. “I was making a spear,” she said, gesturing behind her to the pointed stick…and the pile of wood shavings. “I guess I got a little carried away,” she said sheepishly. Then she snapped her head up to look Lincoln defiantly in the eyes. “That’s not important. What is important is that I will not go back to Camp Jaha with you, and nothing you-”

“I’m not here to talk you into coming back, Clarke,” Lincoln interrupted.

“Nothing you say will-” Clarke continued before realizing what Lincoln had said. Confusion flashed across her face before being replaced by a look of suspicion. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on the dagger once more. “What do you mean you’re not here to _talk_ me into coming back?”

This action did not escape Lincoln’s notice, and he sighed. “I’m not here to talk you into coming back, to forcefully bring you back, or whatever else it is you’re imagining. I didn’t come here looking for you,” he said. He raised his eyebrows a little and continued, “Actually, I didn’t expect I would come across your path at all since you’ve been gone for four days. I figured you would’ve made it farther than this.”

Clarke shifted uncomfortably, and Lincoln took in her appearance. Her clothes were stained with sweat and mud, and her face was streaked with dirt. Her lips were chapped, and there were bags underneath her eyes.

“Look, I can’t help it if I wasn’t trained to survive in the woods my entire life,” Clarke huffed. “If you’re not here to bring me back, then why _are_ you here?”

Lincoln gestured to the quiver of arrows slung across his back with the bow he held in his hand. “I’m hunting so we have extra meat at Camp Jaha to help everyone gain their strength back. Others came with me,” he said, and Clarke immediately looked around. Lincoln continued, “But I set off on my own this morning because they were holding me back.” He paused and looked pointedly at Clarke. “Too noisy. Scaring away all of the game.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

Lincoln’s expression softened, and Clarke hated the way he was looking at her. “You know, Clarke, everyone misses you. Your mom-”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, wincing. “I can’t think about anyone there right now. It’s too soon. It still hurts too much.”

_Jasper held Maya in his hands and looked up at Clarke, fury and sorrow raging in his eyes. “What did you do?” he demanded, tears streaming down his cheeks. There was so much hurt written in his face that Clarke thought her heart was actually physically breaking._

_“I had no choice,” she tried to explain._

_No, we all have choices. I made the choice to save my people. I knew the consequences._

Clarke snapped herself back to the present and quickly looked away from Lincoln, blinking back tears.

Lincoln quickly averted his gaze, not wishing to make Clarke feel uncomfortable. He waited for a moment as she took a deep breath of air in to calm herself.

“Clarke, if you must do this, at least let me teach you a few things. It has only been four days, and you do not look like you’re doing well,” he said matter-of-factly. “And what weapons do you have, just a gun and that tiny knife? You really should have prepared better before wandering off on your own.” His tone was gentle, but he was quite serious.

Clarke sighed. “Yes, I know. That was stupid.”

Lincoln sat down his bow and unsheathed the sword hanging at his left side. He flipped it so that he held the blade in his hand and extended his arm, offering the handle to Clarke. “Here, you’ll need this more than I will, and I have another one anyway,” he said, patting the longer blade that hung from his right hip.

Clarke reluctantly took the handle into her hand and looked at him. “Lincoln…” she began.

“Don’t worry, Clarke. I am not here to stay. I have a few days before they will expect me to return from hunting. I am going to use that time to train you as much as I can, and then I will leave you,” he said. Suddenly a huge grin appeared on his face. “Besides, Octavia would come looking for me if I was gone for much longer than that anyway.”

Clarke allowed herself a small smile and took the sword more firmly in her hand. She swallowed and looked at him seriously. “Lincoln, thank you.”

He nodded his head in response and said, “You are my people now, Clarke." He noted the look of hesitation on her face and continued, "And you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone that I saw you in the woods.”

“I really appreciate this, Lincoln. Thank you for understanding,” Clarke said. Taking note of the way he referred to her as his people, she continued, “And thank you for coming back to the mountain. I know what you sacrificed in choosing to come back to help us, in choosing Octavia. You really care for her,” she said with a mixture of understanding and sadness in her eyes.

Lincoln smiled wistfully and bent down to retrieve a long knife strapped to his ankle. “Maybe one more dagger won’t hurt,” he said as he handed it to Clarke.

Clarke took the knife into her right hand and noted how nicely it fit into her grip, the smooth wooden handle having been carved to fit the contour of a hand. She turned and motioned for Lincoln to follow her to the cave so he could set down his pack, absent-mindedly running her thumb over the tiny bumps of gold metal that adorned both ends of the wooden handle.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_Lexa had made up her mind before Indra stepped into her tent._

_“Heda?” Indra began and then stopped when the Commander turned to face her. Lexa hadn’t yet bothered to wipe her face, and the blood, war paint, and dirt was streaked with clear tracks left in the wake of her tears._

_Lexa raised her eyebrows and waited for Indra to continue._

_Indra swallowed her surprise and began again. *Heda, the warriors are ready to be moved. Lincoln is currently tied to a tree, but I will have a few guards bind his hands so that he can be kept on a rope as we make our way back.*_

_*No,* Lexa said simply. *You will let him escape. He must return to the mountain.*_

_Indra’s mouth dropped slightly in surprise as her eyebrows furrowed. *Heda, surely you-*_

_*Do you dare defy me?* Lexa interrupted, her jaw clenched and nostrils flared._

_Indra immediately looked down and bowed her head slightly. *No, Heda. I will do as you command,* she said, still averting her gaze._

_*Very well,* Lexa replied, eyes unblinking, and Indra straightened her back and looked at the Commander. *You must not let anyone see you. If it were to become known that he was aided in his escape, it would mean that we had broken our alliance with the Mountain Men. They must not know.*_

_Indra nodded. Despite her disapproval of the Commander’s orders, she knew she must follow them. A small part of her, though, could clearly see how much Lincoln cared for Octavia and the Sky People, and try to deny it as she might, Indra had a soft spot in her heart for the Sky warrior as well._

_Lexa reached for a knife on the table and handed it to Indra. *Give this to him.*_

_Indra accepted the blade and nodded, turning to exit the Commander’s tent._

_*I only hope Lincoln can get there in time to help,* Lexa thought to herself, noting how the glint of the gold metal lining the edge of the knife handle in Indra’s hand reminded her of the way Clarke’s blonde hair glimmered in the sun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took the GRE today, and my unofficial scores for both reasoning sections were in the 160s, so I'm celebrating the end of my studying by posting this chapter. And also maybe celebrating because of that picture of Clarke in season 3...WOW!


	4. Where Will You Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She knew exactly where she was heading now, but if she was honest with herself, she had been heading there all along._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks are presented in _italics_.
> 
> So sorry that I haven't updated in so long! This semester has been extremely busy, but I will definitely be updating more regularly once winter break begins. I have the entire plot planned out, just not the time to actually write it.
> 
> As always, you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Lincoln spent the next three days training Clarke to handle the sword he had given her, taking breaks occasionally to give her advice on identifying nuts and berries, fishing, and hunting. And to not be so _unbelievably loud_ when walking around in the forest.

Lincoln stepped forward with his bow and arrow drawn, not making a sound. Then there came a telltale crunch of leaves from behind him. He cut his head around, narrowing his eyes at Clarke, who managed to shoot him a look that was somehow sheepish and frustrated all at once.

He titled his head as if to say, _“Seriously?”_ And Clarke responded by giving a clipped, forceful nod in the direction of the deer that still hadn’t moved despite their antics.

Lincoln rolled his eyes but smiled before turning and releasing the arrow, piercing the deer straight through the heart.

As soon as the deer slumped over, he turned to Clarke. “Sometimes I feel as if you are purposely trying to make noise.”

Clarke just shrugged her shoulders. They both knew Clarke wasn’t really being that loud – it just seemed so compared to Lincoln’s uncannily stealthy footsteps. She advanced toward the deer, pulling out the knife he had given her to begin skinning the animal and removing the meat.

Later, after they had eaten, they sat in reflective silence. Clarke twirled the knife a few times in her hand before using the hem of her shirt to wipe the blood away.

“Thanks for the knife, by the way,” she said, turning to Lincoln. “And the sword. And just everything else.”

“It’s no problem, Clarke. It will make me feel better to know that at least if you’re out here alone, you’ll be able to take care of yourself,” he stated simply. “And the knife wasn’t mine to begin with anyway.”

Clarke raised her eyebrow in confusion, so he began to tell her of Indra approaching him as he sat tied to a tree the night the Mountain fell.

_Indra was crouched down next to Lincoln. “Under the terms of the truce, the lands surrounding the Mountain are forbidden. If you violate this, Lexa will never take you back,” she said harshly before softening and looking into his eyes. “Octavia made her choice. Now you make yours.”_

_With that she stood up and walked away as abruptly as she had come. Lincoln glanced to his right and saw a long knife with tiny bumps of gold metal adorning the ends of the handle._

Clarke winced internally at the mention of the Grounder Commander’s name and at the implication that Lincoln would never be accepted by his own people again because of the decision he had made. “Wow, I hadn’t really given much thought to how you had made it back to the Mountain,” she commented. “I would’ve never imagined it would’ve been because of Indra. I’ve never seen her be anything but unwavering loyal to the Commander. Vicious and strongly opinionated, yes, but never in direct defiance with orders.”

“I guess we all have our surprising moments,” he said, standing up.

Clarke pulled herself to her feet and looked at him solemnly because she knew he had to get back to Camp Jaha.

“Where will you go?” he asked.

A place flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it, shaking her head before looking at him. “I’m not sure. I just need some time.”

Lincoln nodded once. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked her in the eyes. “May we meet again.”

Clarke felt herself beginning to tear up and launched herself into the warrior, pulling him into a hug. She felt him hesitate at first before wrapping an arm around her back.

Then he was gone, moving back through the woods just as stealthily as he had appeared.

“May we meet again,” she whispered long after she could no longer see his retreating figure.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_Lexa’s face swam before her, streaked with blood, dirt, sweat, and war paint. Her eyes were glassy as she swallowed thickly. Clarke had never seen her look so vulnerable, and she would’ve tried to comfort her had she not been causing Clarke to feel as if the wind had been knocked out of her._

_Lexa fixed her stare intently into Clarke’s eyes. The same intensity that Clarke had caught being directed toward her countless times._

_In that moment it was only Lexa and Clarke. “May we meet again,” she heard Lexa say, pushing meaning into every syllable. Something changed in Lexa’s eyes, and she looked soft, saddened, breakable even as tears collected and threatened to spill over._

_Clarke inhaled sharply as the full weight of Lexa’s words settled on her, unable to control her erratic heartbeat or the pain she felt in her heart._

_And like that, Lexa was gone._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_Abby pulled Clarke into a tight hug and kissed the side of her face. “May we meet again,” she said, her voice threatening to break. When they pulled apart, Clarke looked over to find Lexa staring at her, as she so often did, only this time with confusion in her eyes._

_Later that night Clarke found herself seated next to Lexa on the ground in front of a fire, both in pensive silence._

_Gazing into the fire, Lexa suddenly said softly, “What your mother said to you this evening holds special meaning for your people.”_

_Clarke turned to face her, taking in the way the soft glow of the fire highlighted and danced across her sculpted cheekbones and forever-pursed lips._

_“It’s the Traveler’s Blessing. We say it to those we feel we might lose soon or have already lost. To convey that we hope they find peace, safety, and wellness in their journey, either in this life or in their death. To tell them we hope we may encounter them in some way once more, either in life or,” Clarke said, looking up, “among the stars. That this isn’t the end.” She paused before adding, “And that we love them.”_

_Lexa looked at her solemnly, understanding showing in her eyes, and nodded once._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke had been wandering for weeks. She had no company but her thoughts and memories, and try as she might to distract herself with making wooden spears, she was consumed and made hollow by them.

Finn’s face swam before her. _“Thanks, Princess,” he whispered, as she pulled the knife from his chest._

Then Jasper’s. _“What did you do?!” Bodies were strewn about everywhere all around him._

Lexa.

_“Octavia is a threat,” Lexa said, slightly exasperated as she pulled on her gloves. “If you weren’t so close to her, you’d see that.”_

_Clarke seethed with anger. “It’s because I’m close to her that I know she’s loyal. Her brother is more important to her than anyone. She would never endanger his life.”_

_Lexa looked down and sighed. “And you’re willing to risk everything on that? On your feelings?”_

_Boiling hot rage erupted within Clarke. “Yes,” she said, tight-lipped. “You say having feelings makes me weak. But you’re weak for hiding from them. I might be a hypocrite, Lexa, but you’re a liar.”_

_Lexa’s eyes faltered, and she swallowed. Clarke saw her normally stoic, harsh façade fade and took her chance, stepping forward. “You felt something for Gustus. You’re still haunted by Costia.”_

_Lexa winced, stepping back as Clarke continued to advance on her. “You want everyone to think you’re above it all, but I see right through you.”_

_The back of Lexa’s thighs slammed into the table, and she put back her hands to steady herself. “Get. Out,” she commanded to Clarke, punctuating each word._

_But Clarke didn’t move. She was tired of Lexa being cold and heartless in her air of superiority. “Two hundred and fifty people died in that village. I know you felt for them. But you let them burn.”_

_Clarke saw Lexa’s face grow softer and her eyes become glassy as they searched Clarke’s. Unblinking, Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat, never breaking eye contact._

_“Not everyone.” Clarke saw Lexa’s lips quiver. “Not you.”_

Clarke stopped in her tracks at the memory of how fragile Lexa had looked in that moment and on the Mountain.

Lexa, the girl who had to make tough choices and appear strong for her people in order to survive.

Lexa, the only person who could possibly understand how broken Clarke felt.

Lexa, the one who had broken her heart and left her to die.

Clarke gritted her teeth and pushed forward, a new purpose in her step. She knew exactly where she was heading now, but if she was honest with herself, she had been heading there all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter we'll find out what happened to Clarke before she was carried into Lexa's war room in Polis.


	5. Then Everything Went Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She immediately collapsed back onto the ground, feeling extremely light-headed. Her last thought was of Lexa’s face, and then everything went black._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken (note that some Trigedasleng may be set off by quotation marks because they are commonly used phrases on the show).
> 
> I thought I would publish another short chapter today to make up for my long hiatus. And to reassure those who have been complaining about the flashbacks that they won't make up the bulk of this story. Now that we are caught back up to the present (Clarke and Lexa's reunion in Lexa's Polis war room) there will hardly ever be any more flashbacks, and most of the ones that do occur will be OC. But I included flashbacks to help establish Clarke's frame of mind, as I will largely tell the story from Lexa's POV when both characters are involved in a scene from now on.
> 
> As always, you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

_Clarke stood in the forest at the base of the hill on top of which Polis sat. Even though it was dark and her view was largely obscured by trees, she could tell the city was grand compared to all of the other places she had visited on Earth. There were several torches concentrated in one area, and Clarke assumed this must be the gate._

_She took a few moments to collect her thoughts before ascending the hill to try to gain access to the city. Lexa was in no position to revoke her earlier offer of bringing Clarke to Polis before betraying her anyway._

_Just as she was about to take her first step, she heard a loud rustling coming from behind her and moving very fast. Clarke panicked, not sure what else to do except hold up her sword ready to attack whatever or whoever it was._

_A fierce growl pierced the silent night air just before a large bear crashed through the brush. It raised up to its full height, and Clarke swore it was as tall as three of her. When it moved so that the moonlight streaming through the trees was hitting its face, Clarke realized it had two heads._

_She gasped audibly but managed to maintain her shaky hold on the sword. The bear roared even louder, and Clarke began to very slowly back away from it, trying to maintain eye contact._

_But she wasn’t out of the bear’s reach when its paw came down, cutting gashes into her left arm and shoulder. The force knocked Clarke onto the ground, and the bear charged forward. Clarke managed to thrust her sword into the air just as the bear reached her, slicing its paw._

_The bear stopped its attack momentarily and howled in pain, as Clarke tried to roll out from underneath it. But the bear swiped at her with renewed strength, shredding her jacket, shirt, and pants and tearing open the skin all the way down her back. The combined momentum of Clarke’s attempt to get away and the bear striking her sent her careening down a slight incline directly into a tree. There was a resounding crack from her ribs as she crashed into the tree. She could feel sticks and rocks irritating the fresh gashes. She tried to get up in yet another vain escape attempt, but the pain and blood loss were too much. She immediately collapsed back onto the ground, feeling extremely light-headed. Her last thought was of Lexa’s face, and then everything went black._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa was beyond irritated at the intrusion. Her crew had very strict standing orders to never interrupt her when she was in the war room. Striding purposely across the room to give her warriors a verbal lashing, she noticed the last one, a man named Hawk, was laying a thin, limp form on her rug. The body was small in stature and covered in dirt and blood.

*What is the meaning of-* Lexa’s words caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat as the figure stirred slightly, groaning in pain likely from the impact on the horrendous wounds on their back. Their eyes fluttered open slightly, revealing a hint of blue.

“Clarke,” she gasped as she froze. Her eyes widened and filled with fear, her mouth dropping open. Her heart began to beat erratically, and she struggled to maintain control over her breathing.

Clarke, barely breathing and soaking her rug with blood. Clarke, slipping in and out of consciousness from the pain. Clarke, clothes torn to shreds to reveal the bits of flesh hanging off of her shoulder and back. Clarke.

Lexa instantly snapped back into her usual stoic façade, recovering her composure as quickly as she had lost it. She whipped her head up at her warriors, glaring at them with enough intensity to set the room ablaze. *GET NYKO NOW!* she growled at them. Immediately Hawk and two other warriors named Ryder and Penn fled from the room. She commanded the remaining two warriors to fill a wash basin and retrieve cloths to wipe away the blood and dirt.

Kneeling next to Clarke to ensure she was still at least breathing, she directed her glare at Indra. *Speak! Explain this!*

The General stepped forward. *Heda, the guard detail at the south gate heard roars coming from the forest and went to investigate. They found her,* Indra stopped to nod at Clarke lying on the rug, *unconscious at the base of a tree about to be mauled by a bear. Ryder and Penn began firing arrows to distract the beast away from her, and together with Tomac and Fio, they managed to kill it.*

Lexa nodded once and turned back to Clarke, taking the basin and cloth from Tomac and Fio who had just reentered the room. Dipping the cloth into the water, she began to gently wipe Clarke’s face. Strangely, she noticed the areas around the many cuts on Clarke’s body were beginning to take on a faintly green hue.

*Heda,* Indra began again. *Heda, they said the bear had two heads. It was a mutant.*

Lexa’s heart dropped once more, realizing the severity of Clarke’s situation. *NYKO!*

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Feeling renewed pain in her back, Clarke opened her eyes and thought she was hallucinating. The last thing she could remember thinking of was Lexa’s face when she was being attacked, but it had suddenly become very real. Lexa’s face swam before her wearing the same look of concern and vulnerability in her eyes that she had that day in her tent when she had confessed her feelings.

_“Not everyone. Not you.”_

She heard a whisper of “Clarke” before everything went black once more.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Moments after Clarke opened her eyes some time later she really hoped she was hallucinating. She was propped up onto her right side, and pain was radiating from her entire left half.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the pain would disappear and she would wake back up in the forest, all of this having been a dream, when she opened them again. But, no, when she opened her eyes again, she was still… Now, where the hell exactly was she?

Confused, she tried to take in as much of the surroundings right in front of her as she could with her limited mobility and vantage point. She seemed to be in a house of some sort. The walls were the same color of dark green as the forest. Clarke had to squint her eyes to see because the room was rather dark, the only source of light coming from a solitary gap in what must be curtains covering a window. Following the stream of light, she saw what appeared to be clean sketching paper and canvases stacked next to a pile of charcoal pieces, paints, and paintbrushes. Next to the curtained window was a wooden easel. Clarke tried to make out what was beyond the window, but the gap in the curtains was just too small.

Continuing to follow the path of the light across the room, her eyes found a figure sitting in a chair staring intently at her. Startled because she hadn’t known anyone else in the room, she gasped a little. Gone were the figure’s usual war paint, weapons, and armor. But Clarke would know those overly expressive eyes anywhere. Of course the first time she saw Lexa after the Mountain she would be staring at her like she was the very center of the universe itself. Some things never changed.


	6. Not Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Even though the room was fairly dark, Lexa could still make out the pale blue glint of Clarke’s eyes as she rolled them. “I was attacked by a bear with two heads. How do you think I’m feeling, Lexa?” Clarke said sarcastically, not needing to mention the pain she felt from being left on the Mountain. They both knew, and Lexa’s eyes dulled the tiniest bit in response, which didn’t escape Clarke’s notice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> I will update more frequently beginning in mid-December since I'll be done with the semester then. You can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

“Clarke,” Lexa said softly, her eyes glistening. She made to stand from her chair but then thought better of it, settling back into her seat. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she asked, “How are you feeling?”

Even though the room was fairly dark, Lexa could still make out the pale blue glint of Clarke’s eyes as she rolled them. “I was attacked by a bear with two heads. How do you think I’m feeling, Lexa?” Clarke said sarcastically, not needing to mention the pain she felt from being left on the Mountain. They both knew, and Lexa’s eyes dulled the tiniest bit in response, which didn’t escape Clarke’s notice.

Clarke took in Lexa’s defeated, saddened posture a moment longer before she turned her gaunt face toward the window. “Where the hell am I anyway?” she asked with a nod toward the stream of light coming in through the curtains.

Lexa said nothing in response and simply stood from her seat and strode toward the window. The stream of light illuminated her right side, and Clarke took notice of what she was wearing for the first time. Lexa was dressed in a simple sleeveless shirt and her normal tight dark blue pants. When she put her hand forward to draw the curtains open, Clarke noticed the swirling black four-piece tattoo on her right bicep for the first time. As Lexa stretched to pull the curtains, her shirt was raised up to reveal a bit of skin on her right hip and back. Clarke’s eyes widened when she saw the intricate pattern of black and red lines she found there that seemed, from her vantage point below on the bed, to extend up her back and ribs, disappearing into the darkness afforded by Lexa’s loose tunic.

When Lexa had fully pulled back the curtains, she stepped back, and Clarke was suddenly blinded by the light coming in through the window at full force, having become accustomed to the near total darkness. “You are in Polis, Clarke,” Lexa said with finality and a hint of pride in her voice.

“No shit, Lexa. I figured I was in Polis since I was just a few yards from the gates when I was attacked,” muttered Clarke as she struggled to slowly open her tightly shut eyes without blinding herself further. “I was hoping for a more specific answer than that.”

Lexa turned to face Clarke, and her face immediately filled with concern at the sight before her. Clarke’s wounds were no longer green, at least, but the extra light now flooding the room did little to make the extensive gashes peeking out from the top of the furs on her left shoulder look any better. Not wanting to worry Clarke, who thankfully was still struggling to open her eyes, Lexa quickly regained her composure and then spoke. “This is your room, Clarke,” she said simply.

At that, Clarke’s eyes snapped open, and her brows immediately furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean _my_ room?” she questioned, locking her eyes onto Lexa’s face.

Lexa’s features faltered slightly as she cast her eyes downward, breaking contact with Clarke’s piercing gaze. “I arranged a room in my house here in Polis for you before…,” she trailed off softly, further averting her eyes.

“Before you broke our alliance and left me and my people to die in that mountain,” Clarke finished for her.

Lexa’s head snapped back up to look Clarke in the eyes, and her own were glistening with moisture. “Clarke, I-” she started, voice wavering slightly.

“Did what I would have done. Save my people,” Clarke stated simply. “I know,” she said, a little softer this time, as she turned her gaze to the window, having finally adjusted her eyes to the overwhelming brightness.

“Wow,” she breathed out without thinking. She could tell she was not on the same level as the ground, as she could make out the tops of many more buildings spanning for quite some distance. Her line of sight led her to the horizon, where she could see the sparkling of the sea where the sun’s rays met its salty waves. She had seen the ocean before, of course, but only from above in space, never like this.

“So this is Polis then,” Clarke said as she turned her head back around, stopping when her gaze alighted upon the papers, canvases, charcoal, paints, brushes, and easel. “What’s this?” she asked.

“As I said, I had a room arranged in my house for you long ago,” Lexa said simply. “That included these materials which you may use as you wish.” Clarke’s eyes bulged as she took it all in. She had never seen so many art supplies gathered together at once, let alone for her use specifically.

Lexa moved toward the stack of papers and canvases and bent down to pick them up, along with the charcoal pieces, paints, and brushes. She sat them on top of the small wooden table next to Clarke’s bed, organizing them carefully to ensure they wouldn’t fall over or roll off onto the floor. “I hope you will use them in the coming days as you recover. You should hold off on using the easel for a while, as Nyko has insisted you remain in bed as much as possible at least until he removes your stitches. He expects it will be another week in addition to the three days that have already passed.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “I’ve been asleep for three days?”

“Yes, you lost a lot of blood. The bear mauled the left side of your body extensively, and since the bear was a mutant, Nyko kept you knocked out for several days as he worked to prevent radiation poisoning. I will go find him now so that he may talk to you about your injuries,” Lexa said, looking into Clarke’s eyes briefly before she turned to stride across the room and make her exit. “Your wounds are looking much better than they did, Clarke, but you must promise me you will stay in bed so they will heal fully and not get infected.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not the one who has trouble keeping her promises, Lexa,” Clarke said just before Lexa reached the door.

Lexa turned and took in the hurt and brokenness that filled Clarke’s eyes.

“I’m still angry. I’m still hurt. And just because I might understand doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you, Lexa,” Clarke said quietly.

Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded simply, unable to find her voice. She turned the knob and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Not yet,” Clarke whispered.


	7. Blood Transfusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Definitely guessed I had some cracked ribs,” Clarke said as she tried not to think about the low throb of pain emanating from her ribcage. “Wait, you said you performed a blood transfusion? How? Where did you get the blood?” Clarke was confused._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken.
> 
> As always, you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

“Clarke,” Nyko greeted as he stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him. “It’s good to see that you are awake. You have been asleep for quite some time.” He grabbed the chair Lexa had recently vacated and pulled it to the side of the bed to sit down.

“Yes, Le- I mean, the Commander said I was out for three days?” Clarke asked for confirmation. Nyko nodded his head briefly, continuing to rummage through his medical bag.

He found what he was looking for and stopped, pulling out a jar of salve. “Yes, three days. You have extensive wounds on the left side of your body, mainly on your shoulder, arm, and back. They will certainly scar, but this salve should help with that,” he said, placing the jar on the small wooden beside table.

“Thanks,” Clarke said, nodding once.

“The bear was mutated, and you lost a lot of blood, so I kept you knocked out for part of that three days. I needed to perform a blood transfusion so that you would not die of radiation poisoning. In addition to your wounds, you also cracked a few ribs, which I’m sure you could guess from the pain you must be feeling. I’ve brought a tea to help you sleep and reduce the pain somewhat if I can find it,” he said before rummaging through his bag once more.

“Definitely guessed I had some cracked ribs,” Clarke said as she tried not to think about the low throb of pain emanating from her ribcage. “Wait, you said you performed a blood transfusion? How? Where did you get the blood?” Clarke was confused.

Nyko paused his movements to give her a tired smile. “Our medical healing techniques and supplies are not as rudimentary as you perhaps expect, Clarke.”

Clarke dipped her head apologetically in response.

“As for the source of the blood for your transfusion, she didn’t tell you?” Nyko questioned.

“She who? Who didn’t tell me what?” Clarke questioned.

Nyko shook his head slightly with a small hint of a smile on his face. “Wasn’t Heda in here when you awoke?” he asked.

Clarke nodded in response, still confused.

“Well, there you have it. Heda has not left your side since the gate guards brought you in until she came to find me earlier today after you woke up. She offered her blood for your transfusion,” he said. “Ah, here it is,” he said as he pulled a small canteen from his bag. “Drink this tea, and I will bring you more tomorrow when I come to check on you. You should try to rest more, and do not leave this bed unless absolutely necessary for another week so your wounds and ribs can heal,” he said, looking at her sternly as he stood up to leave the room.

Clarke simply nodded her head once in assent, her mind spinning with the information he had just revealed to her.

“Lincoln was right about you,” he said before he left the room without explaining himself further.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_Nyko rushed into the war room, his medical bag in hand with Ryder and Penn right behind him. *Heda, what’s happened?*_

_Lexa moved to make room for Nyko next to Clarke’s body, still continuing to wipe her face of blood and dirt. *She was attacked by a mutated bear, Nyko. Her injuries from the beast seem to be limited to her left side.*_

_Nyko nodded his head and took in the green hue of the wounds running along Clarke’s back and shoulder. *I must work perform a blood transfusion as soon as possible to prevent radiation poisoning,* he said as he pulled a small wooden box of needles and jar from his bag._

_Motioning to Ryder and Penn, Nyko said, *Bring the torch to me so I can sterilize this needle.* He opened the jar and began pouring its contents down Clarke’s throat. *Heda, we will need a donor for the blood transfusion-* Nyko stopped momentarily when he turned to see the Commander already shedding her jacket and rolling up her left sleeve. Her face was as emotionless as ever, but there was a flicker of concern and determination in her eyes that Nyko didn’t miss._

_*Well, that settles that,* he murmured under his breath as he began to apply salve to Clarke’s wounds before sterilizing the needle to begin the blood transfusion._

_A few hours later, Clarke had been stripped of her bloody, torn clothes, stitched, and bandaged after Nyko had completed the blood transfusion. Lexa had ordered her warriors to carry Clarke to the room she had prepared for her months ago upstairs, issuing threats of bodily harm each time they jostled Clarke’s unconscious body more than she felt was necessary as she and Nyko followed behind._

_Once Clarke had been settled into the bed, the warriors retreated from the room, leaving Nyko and Lexa. Nyko sat the jar of salve down on the wooden table and moved to leave the room, Lexa following behind him._

_He wasn’t surprised when she stopped at the chair next to the door and sat down instead of going through the doorway with him._

_*Have one of the servants bring a wash basin to me and a sleep shirt,* she commanded to Nyko._

_*Sha, Heda,* Nyko said with a nod before turning to go down the hall with a grin on his face._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_Clarke watched as Dante Wallace slumped to the floor, his hand over the gunshot wound in his chest. Then the faces of the Mountain inhabitants were swimming before her, their bodies slumped over in their chairs in the dining hall. Then there was Jasper on his knees, clutching Maya’s lifeless body in his hands. “What did you do?” he choked out as tears streamed down his face. Lexa’s bloody, dirty, sweaty face appeared, tears glistening in her eyes. Choking back the lump in her throat, she opened her mouth to say, “Save my people.” But it wasn’t her voice that spoke those words; it was Clarke’s._

“Clarke!” Lexa loudly whispered, gingerly touching the blonde’s right shoulder. “Clarke!” she repeated, louder this time as she gently shook Clarke’s shoulder, not wanting to hurt her.

Clarke stopped thrashing around in her bed and snapped her eyes open in confusion. Her heart was racing, and she was in pain from aggravating her numerous wounds.

“It’s okay, Clarke. You’re safe,” Lexa murmured as she dropped into the chair that still sat by the edge of Clarke’s bed.

Clarke’s breathing slowed back to normal as the memory of the last time Lexa had uttered those same words to her flashed to the forefront of her mind. It had been the night after they had let the missile strike Tondc, and Clarke had woken startled only to find Lexa watching over her with her usual intensity and reassuring her of her safety.

Lexa moved her hand from Clarke’s shoulder, but Clarke grabbed her hand before she could fully retreat, lacing it in her own. “Stay,” she said so quietly Lexa wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.

Lexa began to slowly rub circles on the outside of Clarke’s hand with her thumb, pulling the chair closer so she could rest her elbow more comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Try and rest now, Clarke,” she whispered, as Clarke’s eyes began to close, her breathing and heartbeat finally under control. “I am here.”

Clarke glanced down at Lexa’s left arm just before she succumbed to sleep once more, noting the small bruise at the crease of her elbow undoubtedly caused by the prick of the needle for the blood transfusion.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

When Clarke awoke several hours later, it was light outside, and she frowned when she realized her hand was empty, and there was no extra weight resting on the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes to confirm what she already expected. Lexa was already gone.

Sighing, she picked up the sketching paper and a piece of charcoal from her bedside table. She absentmindedly began dragging the charcoal across the page, with no real plan for what she was drawing.

Minutes later, a smile graced her face when she realized that the random swirls she had drawn were beginning to resemble a rather familiar four-piece bicep tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have Chapter 8 and half of Chapter 9 written. Let's see how much self-restraint I can muster before I end up posting three updates in one day.


	8. She Is A Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Indra shifted her gaze slightly to look at Lexa from the corner of her eye before refocusing her attention on the warriors. *We both know that is not the only reason you have been at her side the past three days or why you offered your blood for her, Heda,* she said softly. *She is a distraction.*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken.
> 
> I apparently have no chill, as is this is the third chapter I've posted today. As always, you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Lexa woke at the first hint of sunlight streaming over the horizon. As she slowly opened her eyes, it registered to her that she was resting her cheek on her right arm, her wild, curly hair spilling out onto Clarke’s right thigh. Glancing up to ensure Clarke was still sleeping, she extricated her left hand from Clarke’s right and stood up, stretching to relieve the soreness caused by sleeping in such an awkward position. Her neck made a cracking sound, and she rubbed it gingerly as she stepped back from the bed and the chair.

She took in Clarke’s sleeping form. She looked so peaceful and less worried than she did when she was awake, and Lexa wished she had the power to preserve this feeling for Clarke forever. She wished she could erase all of her pain and the memories that haunted her. _But that’s not part of the lives we were born into,_ she thought with a sigh. Lexa bent down to pull the furs higher on Clarke and tenderly cupped Clarke’s face, running her thumb across her jaw. Then she turned and exited the room, walking into the room straight across the hall.

Lexa quickly washed her face using the basin on her bedside table and then pulled on her armor just as her handmaiden knocked on the door. Like clockwork she would appear each morning to help Lexa braid her hair.

*Enter,* Lexa called, as she tied the last strap of her shoulder piece and went to sit at the desk situated in front of the window. She picked up her sword that lay on the desk and began polishing it as her handmaiden got to work on her hair in silence. It was their established routine, and Lexa had selected this handmaiden specifically because she did not interrupt her thoughts with needless chatter.

A few minutes later, her handmaiden stepped back to signify that she was done. *Mochof,* Lexa said as she stood and sheathed her sword.

*Pro, Heda,* the handmaiden replied with a slight dip of her head before stepping out of the room.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa approached the training field, pleased to see that Indra had already gathered the warriors and begun the morning training session. The clattering of metal on metal slowly stopped as the sparring warriors noticed her appearance. *Heda,* they called out as they dipped their heads in a show of reverence.

*Carry on,* Lexa called out authoritatively before moving to stand beside her general who stood observing the training session as it began to pick back up.

*Heda,* Indra said in greeting at Lexa’s approach, her eyes never leaving the training field in front of them.

Lexa could sense the tension rolling off of Indra in waves, though her general said nothing. *Speak, Indra,* she commanded.

*This is the first time you have been to the training field in days,* Indra stated simply. She knew that Lexa had been at the Sky Girl’s side the entire time.

Lexa knew that Indra had never approved of her closeness with Clarke, and clearly that hadn’t changed. *You know as well as I that the scouts have reported seeing the Sky People entering the Mountain. It is crucial to the safety of our people that the Sky Commander survives. The Sky People post the biggest threat to us right now,* Lexa said, looking straight ahead.

Indra shifted her gaze slightly to look at Lexa from the corner of her eye before refocusing her attention on the warriors. *We both know that is not the only reason you have been at her side the past three days or why you offered your blood for her, Heda,* she said softly. *She is a distraction.*

Lexa clenched her jaw and unsheathed her sword, stepping away from Indra to call on the four warriors closest to her to engage her in a sparring match. She twirled the sword around in her hand a few times and bent her knees as she readied herself, the determination and excitement in her eyes sparking the tiniest bit of fear in the four hulking warriors in front of her.

_Lexa thought back to the Conclave when she was chosen to lead her people. She was so young then. Afterward, the former Commander’s Second had pulled her aside and crouched down to her eye level. *I promise to do everything in my power to protect you and our people. I see the determination in your eyes, and I know you will lead our people well, Little Heda,* he had said with one hand resting on her shoulder._

_*I appreciate that,* Lexa stated with an appreciative nod as the warrior returned to his full height. *But one more thing,* she said as he turned to leave her. He looked back as she continued, *Never call me Little Heda again, Gustus.*_

_*Sha, Heda,* he said with a slight chuckle._

Lexa deftly stepped to the side to avoid the first warrior’s sword as he charged at her, quickly bringing the hilt of her sword into his back to knock him onto the ground.

_*She is a distraction, Heda,* Gustus said as he stood in front of Lexa’s throne. *Nothing good will come of this alliance.*_

_*Shof op, Gustus,* Lexa commanded. *Our people stand to benefit in many ways from this alliance, and we both know it.*_

_*I just do not wish to see you get hurt, Little Heda,* he said softly._

_Lexa grimaced at the mention of her old nickname._

Lexa’s sword clanged against the second warrior’s as he launched a feverish attack against her. Still, he was no match for the Commander, as she met him blow for blow before disarming him and sending him to his knees.

_Lexa’s words had proved not to be enough to reassure Gustus of the benefits of their alliance with the Sky People. He had made it look as if the Sky People were trying to poison her, and now he stood tied to the post, trembling and with blood dripping from his body._

_Lexa stepped in front of him, and he whispered, *Be strong.* Lexa momentarily lost control over her stoic façade but regained it quickly. She positioned her sword and took a deep breath. *Yu gonplei ste odon,* she said gruffly and drove the sword through the heart of the man who had protected her and stood by her side for a decade._

The two remaining warriors both came at her simultaneously, and Lexa blocked their attempts with her sword. She quickly dodged the next attempt and kicked one of the warriors in the back of the thigh, sending him to the ground.

_*Lexa, the warriors are ready to begin the attack on the intruders,* Anya said._

_Lexa nodded her acknowledgement, and Anya turned to exit the Commander’s tent. *Do not kill the girl who leads them,* she called out, and Anya stopped in her tracks, turning around._

_*Lexa, her people blew up the bridge. They have the fire power to end our people, and they must be stopped,* Anya spat in exasperation. *Do not let your curiosity about her distract you from what you must do as the leader of our people!*_

_*You will do as I command, Anya,* Lexa said coldly. *Remember your place.*_

_*Sha, Heda,* Anya muttered as she dipped her head and left the tent._

Lexa renewed her attack on the warrior who was still standing, slashing at him with her sword. She connected her sword with his right arm after a few attempts, cutting him slightly and causing him to drop his weapon.

_The Sky Commander she had heard so much about from Anya and her other generals entered her tent, and Lexa was taken aback. She knew of the girl’s cunning and wits, but no one had prepared her for how beautiful the girl was._

_And then Clarke was handing her Anya’s braid. Anya, who had been her mentor her entire life. Anya, who had pushed her relentlessly in her training, leaving Lexa bloody and sweaty at the end of every single day. Anya, who had pulled Lexa into a tight hug after Costia’s head had been delivered._

_Clarke was telling her of Anya’s death and that she had wanted an alliance between their people. Of course Lexa knew this was a lie but did not comment, as she admired the Sky Commander’s boldness. It was the same boldness she had admired in the girl whose braid she now grasped in her hand._

Lexa held her sword with the tip pressing slightly into the warrior’s throat before she removed it and sheathed it at her back once more.

*Back to your training,* she commanded to the warriors on the field who had gradually stopped sparring to watch their leader’s display of prowess in battle. She marched purposely toward Indra. *She is not a distraction,* she said calmly before continuing up the hill. Indra only raised an eyebrow at her in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also just putting it out there that I'm always up for receiving prompts either here on AO3 or on tumblr (lexaisweakforclarke).


	9. Part Of The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Nightmare,” she corrected Lexa. “Worse than a nightmare, actually. Recollections of past reality,” she said, drained._
> 
> _“And I’m part of the nightmare,” Lexa whispered, stilling her hand on Clarke’s cheek and not lifting her gaze to meet Clarke’s eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks will generally be presented in _italics_. Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken.

Clarke spent her days doing nothing but sketching the people she had met and the things she had seen since landing on the ground months ago. Her current subject was Jasper and Maya, and her throat burned with each movement of her hand. She wasn’t sure how she could ever face Jasper again. What she had done in the Mountain was always present somehow in her mind, simmering just under the surface of her conscious thoughts.

She couldn’t escape the Mountain. But Lexa had. Clarke had seen the desperation, longing, and regret that had filled Lexa’s eyes before she left her. She had heard the love in her voice as she whispered the Traveler’s Blessing. It was obvious that Lexa deeply cared about Clarke.

Even still, the fact remained that if Lexa hadn’t left her there alone, she might not have had to resort to killing everyone in the Mountain. There might have been another way.

But she would never know for sure because that’s not how things had played out. Lexa had left her, Cage had refused to back down, and she had been forced to kill everyone to save her people. So Lexa would always be tied to Clarke’s guilt about the mass murder she had committed. _One of the mass murders I’ve committed,_ she reminded herself.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke found herself drawing the familiar floppy hair of Finn before she could stop herself. She drew him happy and loving, with a spark in his eye. She drew him as she had known him before she found out about Raven and before he had committed senseless mass murder in his crazed attempts to find Clarke.

Upon hearing a knock at the door, she sat the sketchpad down on the bedside table and called, “You can come in.” She wasn’t surprised to see Nyko’s large figure emerging through the doorway moments later. He had been coming by each day to check on her and provide a fresh supply of salve and tea.

“Clarke, you’re looking better each day,” he commented as he sat in the chair beside her bed. “It should only be a couple of days before you will be well enough to get up.” He reached into his bag to pull out a fresh jar of salve and moved to set it on the table. “It also won’t be long before I can take those stitches-” he stopped talking immediately as his eyes alighted upon the drawing of Finn. His eyes darkened with anger.

“I was there that day, you know,” he spoke quietly, glaring at the drawing. “I tried to get him and his friend to listen to reason, tried to tell them that you and your friends weren’t there. But he wouldn’t listen. He had this crazed look in his eyes. He was going to do what he had set out to do no matter what anyone said to him.”

Nyko paused and looked down. “He murdered my nephew Artigas that day. My brother, his dad, had been taken by the Mountain Men, and he was worried and stressed. I tried to keep him calm, but then the Sky Boy opened fire. And at the end, my nephew and seventeen other innocent people lay dead on the ground.”

Clarke reached out and hesitated for a moment before laying her hand on top of Nyko’s. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “He did it for me. Or at least he thought he was doing it for me.”

Nyko stiffened and straightened. “His blood debt was paid when you stuck that knife in his heart. I know that must have been hard. I am sorry that he caused you so much pain. But it had to be done. He murdered innocents,” he said with saddened finality as he stood up. “I will come back to check on you again tomorrow.”

Clarke watched Nyko close the door behind him, his words replaying themselves over and over again in her head. _He murdered innocents. Just like me._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke was thrashing around and whimpering in her sleep again, her dreams filled with lifeless faces from the Mountain and Finn’s final, desperate days after he had snapped.

Lexa was a light sleeper by nature, and the distress emanating from the room across the hall roused her from sleep. She pulled herself from her bed and quietly made her way into Clarke’s room.

“Clarke,” she called softly as she ran her hand up Clarke’s arm, succeeding in waking her up.

Lexa moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to Clarke’s thigh and gently wiped the tears that were streaming down the blonde’s face. “It was just a dream,” she whispered.

Clarke looked up at Lexa, who was gazing as intently as ever at her cheeks as she used her thumb to dry her tears. She couldn’t miss the concern and brokenness held in Lexa’s sparkling green eyes.

“Nightmare,” she corrected Lexa. “Worse than a nightmare, actually. Recollections of past reality,” she said, drained.

“And I’m part of the nightmare,” Lexa whispered, stilling her hand on Clarke’s cheek and not lifting her gaze to meet Clarke’s eyes.

Clarke hesitated for a moment before softly replying with the truth, “Yes.” Lexa just barely flinched, her eyes beginning to glisten, but Clarke was so tuned into Lexa’s facial features that the change was obvious to her.

Lexa inhaled deeply and then gave a simple, sharp nod. “I know you haven’t forgiven me, Clarke, and I don’t expect you to,” she said sadly, fully removing her hand from Clarke’s cheek. “The nightmares will never go away, or at least in my experience they haven’t. But it will become easier to deal with your demons,” Lexa said as she moved to stand up from her position on the edge of Clarke’s bed.

But Clarke’s hand grabbed her wrist, preventing her. “You have nightmares, too?” she asked softly.

Lexa nodded. “Every night,” she said before yawning.

“Will you stay again?” Clarke asked with a small voice. She was still angry at Lexa, but being with her made her feel less vulnerable.

“Of course, Clarke,” Lexa said as she pulled the chair up to Clarke’s bed once more, falling asleep again shortly after.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_The red-headed girl giggled as she took the flower that was offered to her. *Mochof,* she said as she blushed and grinned widely._

_*Pro,* Lexa found herself responding. *Anything to see you smile, hodnes,* she said with a grin plastered across her own face._

_*Come on, I have something to give you in return,* the red-headed girl said delightedly as she tugged on the brunette’s hand. *But you’ll have to catch me first!* And with that, the red-head took off at a full sprint down the trail, leaving the brunette staring in surprise momentarily before she gave chase._

_Lexa was just a few yards away when she saw the red-head stop at the edge of the lake and turn with a glint in her eye before diving in. Grinning wildly, Lexa dove in after her, extending her arms and kicking her legs to follow her to the opposite shore._

_The red-head reached it first and pushed Lexa back into the water with a twinkling laugh. When Lexa resurfaced, the other girl was nowhere in sight. Lexa swam closer to the shore that dropped off steeply into the lake. Using her upper body strength and whatever footholds she could find to pull herself up, Lexa finally pushed far enough so that her head was level with solid ground. And she came face to face with a lifeless head with long red hair spilling from it, detached from its body and frozen in a block of solid ice. Costia._

_Lexa’s heart stopped, and she fell back into the water. She couldn’t get her arms and legs to work right, and she panicked. She was drowning._

_“Costia-”_

Lexa awoke with a start to realize she was still in Clarke’s room and that Clarke’s hand was on her shoulder.

“Lexa, you were breathing heavily and muttering Costia’s name over and over again. Your eyes were open and rolled back into your head,” Clarke said in a frightened voice. “Your heartrate is out of control,” she said, pushing into Lexa’s arm more firmly with her palm.

“I apologize, Clarke. It usually doesn’t get that bad,” Lexa said, trying to calm her breathing. “I’ll go back to my room so that I won’t disturb your sleep further if you think you’ll be okay.”

She made to stand up but was stopped when she heard Clarke say, “No.”

Lexa lifted her gaze to meet Clarke’s for the first time since waking for her nightmare and saw the blonde pulling back the furs on her right side. “Stay,” she whispered in a pleading voice.

And Lexa couldn’t refuse Clarke, so she wordlessly slipped into the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much in fear of aggravating her still-healing injuries. Lexa lay stiffly at first until Clarke slowly moved closer to that their shoulders were touching, and then she let out a quiet sigh of relief. She laced her hand in Clarke’s and whispered, *Mochof,* before sleep overcame them both once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com, so come say hi! I'm down for receiving prompts here on AO3 or on there if any of you are interested in that.
> 
> I'm not sure exactly when I'll be able to post the next update. I'm in the middle of applying to grad schools, and I have final exams next week. And I sort of just spent this weekend posting 4 new chapters instead of working on any of that... But new updates will come in mid-December at the latest when I'm done with all of that stuff. Plus I have two new fic ideas, one for a modern AU that I literally dreamed up last night (probably a sign I'm spending too much time on fanfiction) and another that would basically be the story of Lexa's life from beginning to end. Thanks for reading!


	10. Physical Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Neither of them felt they deserved this physical comfort, so they only allowed it in the nighttime, breaking apart by daybreak and silently agreeing to not speak of its occurrence. They didn’t need to be reminded by how broken they both were by saying it out loud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken. Flashbacks and inner thoughts are presented in _italics_.
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Clarke woke up alone in the morning, but that was to be expected. Lexa had her responsibilities as the Commander to tend to and couldn’t just spend the day lounging in bed with Clarke. Not that Clarke would allow that anyway. With each sunrise brought safety, the light wiping away all feelings of vulnerability. It was only in the dark that Clarke had to face her nightmares, and it was only then that she needed Lexa. During the daytime Clarke found the strength to face the thoughts of her actions and those who had led her to make them – Lexa, Cage – alone.

And so it went. Clarke spent her days recovering in her room and making use of the art supplies Lexa had given her. Though the daylight empowered her, she still found it necessary to keep herself busy to avoid drifting too far into the endless void that was her mind. With the exception of Nyko who stopped by to check on her each day like clockwork and an occasional servant who came to deliver meals, Clarke interacted with no one during the day.

A constant war raged in her mind between the bitter memory of Lexa’s retreating figure three months ago, the despair etched on Lexa’s face, and her own actions in the Mountain, the choices she had made herself. Clarke did her best not to give in to the thoughts that would result in her chest heaving and tears streaming down her face.

But at night she always lost. Always woke up screaming as the faces of those she had killed taunted her. And each night without fail, Lexa would wake up at the first sign of trouble and make her way across the hall.

The chair next to the bed was quickly forgotten, and it became habit for Lexa to simply slide into bed next to Clarke without a moment’s hesitation from either girl. Only the weight of Lexa’s torso and arm draped across Clarke could anchor her to the ground and calm the waves of terror and remorse crashing within her. Only when Clarke could hear Lexa’s even breathing and feel the rhythmic beating of her heart would she feel a reprieve. She would wait until then to gently trace the outline of Lexa’s bicep tattoo until she drifted off to sleep once more.

Neither of them felt they deserved this physical comfort, so they only allowed it in the nighttime, breaking apart by daybreak and silently agreeing to not speak of its occurrence. They didn’t need to be reminded by how broken they both were by saying it out loud.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa strode down the hallway, her hair braided and her long coat and sash billowing behind her. She took in the information one of her male warriors was relaying to her about the council meeting scheduled to take place in just a few minutes in the war room. She could see Indra waiting patiently for her outside the war room doors down the hall.

She had just barely had time to finish applying her war paint after quietly making her way back into her room before the warrior had come to retrieve her. Clarke’s nightmares had been particularly awful the night before, as the tiny bodies of the Mountain children revolved in her head like a carousel, and it had taken much longer than usual to calm her down. Lexa had gotten little sleep and found it difficult to focus on what her warrior was saying.

That is until she heard him say, *And, Heda, they are wondering about the Wanheda staying here-*

Lexa snapped to attention and grabbed the warrior by the throat, pinning him to the wall before he could finish his sentence. Her nostrils flared in anger, and she clenched her jaw. The warrior’s eyes were widened in shock and fear, and his attempts to pull Lexa’s hand off his throat were futile. *You will never refer to the Skai Heda by that name ever again if you value your life,* she spat. *It is only because we are not in her presence that I will not kill you here and now.*

With a last menacing glare, she released her grip on his throat, and the warrior relaxed against the wall, taking in deep breaths. Lexa could only imagine how it would shatter Clarke’s already fragile state to hear herself referred to as the Commander of Death. Her heart raced at the mere thought. _I cannot, no will not allow that to happen. I must protect her from the reputation she has gained among our people._

Lexa was brought back from her thoughts by Indra who had approached the two at a casual pace during the encounter. _*Ryder, you would do well to inform the rest of the warriors of Heda’s order,*_ she said sternly, dismissing him.

Her blood still boiling and her breath coming erratically, she glanced over at Indra and dipped her head slightly in a show of gratitude. Lexa swore she could see the hint of a smirk playing on Indra’s face.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night Lexa lay still with her head on Clarke’s shoulder and her arm wrapped around Clarke’s torso. Her eyes were closed, and she had control over her breathing pattern. She did this every night, allowing Clarke to think she was asleep and then reveling in the light touches on her arm as Clarke traced her swirling tattoo. Lexa would not actually sleep until she was sure Clarke had drifted off again.

This night, though, Lexa could tell Clarke’s mind was consumed with thought, as she had been moving her hand on Lexa’s bicep in a very erratic pattern. Lexa risked opening her eyes and realized that Clarke’s head was turned so she could see the night sky through the window. The light from the moon and stars streaming in illuminated her face, and Clarke looked pensive.

“Do you miss it?” Lexa whispered, causing Clarke to startle slightly and stop the movement of her fingers on Lexa’s arm momentarily.

“Miss what?” she whispered back, gaze still locked on the sky.

“Space,” Lexa said before shifting upwards a bit so she could fully see Clarke’s face.

Clarke scoffed even though her eyes were beginning to glisten. “Even though I was locked up, I never had to worry about the safety of my life or my friends’ lives on a daily basis in space. I never had to kill anyone to survive in space. So, yes, Lexa, of course I miss space,” she retorted, but her hand had found its way back to Lexa’s arm and continued to stroke her tattoo again. “Especially my time in space before my dad died,” she whispered so quietly that Lexa almost didn’t catch it. Clarke stopped speaking then, and Lexa settled back into her original position and pretended to sleep in the hope that Clarke would soon follow.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Clarke placed a large canvas on the easel and began to paint her father, feeling well enough to be out of bed for an extended period of time. She took her time recreating his caring eyes and infectious smile, glancing over to the bedside table where his watch lay next to the knife Lincoln had given her in the woods.

She was still working on the painting when there was a knock on the door. Clarke turned the easel so that it and the canvas faced the wall before calling for the person to enter.

When Nyko stepped into the room and saw that Clarke was out of bed, he smiled. “It’s good to see you up and walking, Clarke,” he said. “I expect that in another day or two you’ll be completely recovered and able to get out of this room.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me,” she said with a smile on her face. Then she frowned slightly because she wasn’t quite sure what she would do once she was no longer confined to this room. _Should I continue to stay in Lexa’s house? Will she allow me to?_

As if sensing her inner debate, Nyko interrupted Clarke’s thoughts. “You know, I am the only Healer for Trikru now, and I know I could really use some assistance,” he began. Clarke still looked hesitant, so he continued, “You don’t have to answer right away, of course. But I think we could both really benefit from working together, and we’d certainly be able to heal more people.” He didn’t mention that it was Lexa who had approached him with this suggestion as a way for Clarke to heal herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update! The end of the semester got pretty crazy, with trying to finish assignments, study for final exams, and submit grad school applications. But now that all of that is over, I'll be able to update much more frequently! I am hoping to have the entire thing finished before the third season airs on January 21st. Like I've been saying, I have the entire plot planned out, but I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this will end up being.
> 
> Also, wow the season 3 trailer! I made a [post on tumblr about all of the observations I've made or speculations I've seen based on the teaser and the trailer](http://lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com/post/135247465885/everything-we-know-about-s3-from-the-teaser-and) if any of you are interested in discussing it!


	11. What People Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Blue eyes met each other as Clarke took in her father’s smiling face. Her brief talk with Lexa a few nights previous still weighed on her heavily, and she tugged the edge of her sleeve across her eye to prevent any tears from spilling out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Still planning to finish this before the third season airs ONLY ONE MONTH FROM TODAY!
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Clarke stopped the movements of the paintbrush in her hand and stepped back from her easel to admire her work. Blue eyes met each other as Clarke took in her father’s smiling face. Her brief talk with Lexa a few nights previous still weighed on her heavily, and she tugged the edge of her sleeve across her eye to prevent any tears from spilling out.

She longed for the time when her life was relatively simple and she still had her father. “Of course I miss space. How could I not?” Clarke thought to herself and then paused. She knew things would have had to change whether or not her father had been floated. He had died for what he thought was right for everyone on the Ark – to know the gravity of the situation they faced so they could step forward together and create a viable plan for survival.

And Abby had betrayed him all the same. Clarke was still angry, but she realized she had also acted in the interest of what she thought was best for everyone on the Ark. Sending out a video message detailing the dwindling supply of oxygen likely would have incited mass hysteria and chaos. Clarke had seen how quickly a situation could escalate and consume people with groupthink the moment she accused Murphy of murdering Wells.

A light knock at the door interrupted her thoughts once again, and Clarke began to think this would become a routine part of painting for her.

“Come in, Nyko,” Clarke called without bothering to turn around.

“I’m glad to see you have fully recovered,” Nyko said jovially as he entered the room. He paused upon seeing that Clarke was standing in front of a painting and cast his eyes downward, not wanting to make her feel as if her privacy was being invaded.

“You can look, Nyko. I’m finished with it now,” she said, stepping backward to allow him a full view of the canvas. “This is my dad. His name was Jake,” Clarke said softly as Nyko studied the painting.

Nyko turned to Clarke and smiled, nodding once. “You are very talented. I’m sure he would be proud,” he said lightly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

After Clarke responded with her gratitude for his praise, he continued more seriously, “So, have you given thought to the offer I made to you a few days ago?”

“Yes, and I’ve decided to accept. I agree that we would benefit from working alongside each other, and I’m sure by combining some of your people’s medicines with my surgical knowledge will indeed heal more people,” she responded.

Clarke had spent the past few days thinking about all of the pain she and everyone around her had endured since landing on the ground months ago. There had been so much hardship, and everyone could use some healing.

She took in the huge smile planted on Nyko’s face and glanced to her father’s watch resting upon the bedside table. She had taken it off to avoid getting paint on it earlier that morning. Clarke thought about how some people, like her, could do with some healing beyond physical wounds. Her father’s words settled heavily into her heart as she listened to Nyko describing the detail of her job as a healer in Polis and an upcoming festival or ceremony of some sort.

_“Forgiveness isn’t about what people deserve.”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke snapped her eyes open at the sound of a knock on her door and looked around to see sunlight faintly streaming through the window. By now she was used to people knocking on her door but never this early. Throwing back the furs and sleepily getting out of bed to answer the door, she wasn’t surprised that her bed was empty. Both Clarke’s nightmares and Lexa both slipped away as the sun rose each morning.

She was, however, surprised to see Lexa standing there when she opened her door. Lexa was still wearing the usual dark tunic and pants that she wore to bed, but her hair was already pulled back into her normal intricate, elegant braids and war paint had been applied to her face.

“Clarke,” Lexa greeted her before extending the small pile of fabric in her hands. Clarke rubbed at her eyes, and Lexa used the moment to admire her in her sleepy state. There was nothing more that Lexa cherished than seeing Clarke as peaceful and carefree as she was early in the morning as Lexa slipped out of her room each day. She wished she could preserve this version of Clarke permanently.

Clarke took the cloth from Lexa’s hands and let it unfold to reveal a dark navy dress with an intricate grey bodice. She looked into Lexa’s normally expressive green eyes, accentuated even further by the dark war paint, and detected gloominess in their dulled color.

“Why are you handing me a dress, Lexa?”

Lexa quirked her eyebrows slightly in confusion. “Nyko informed me he had told you about our Day of Remembrance,” she said.

Clarke continued to stare blankly for a few more seconds before realization hit her; Nyko had been describing the Day of Remembrance the day she had accepted his offer to become a healer. She vaguely remembered hearing him mention that everyone in Polis always dressed up for the all-day event that came once a year. “Yes, sorry, he did. I just didn’t make the connection between the dress and the ceremony at first,” Clarke sputtered.

“I see. There is no need to apologize, Clarke. I realized you would not have the proper attire for the festival today. There has been a bath drawn for you already. Please knock on my door when you have finished getting dressed,” Lexa said before turning around and walking back into her room.

Normally Clarke would have objected to following Lexa’s orders, but given the special circumstances of the day and the somber look on the Commander’s face, she chose not to. Instead she replied, “Sha,” and made her way down the hall to bathe.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke gingerly tapped on the door and waited for a response. She was pleasantly surprised to see how well the dress fit her, snug around her curves and loose and flowing around her ankles. She was lost in thought about whether a simple braid would suffice for her hair when Lexa opened the door, and Clarke’s jaw dropped slightly in surprise.

She had never seen Lexa dressed for anything but war, except for the garments she wore as she slipped into Clarke’s bed to calm her nightmares each night. But even those clothes weren’t too different from what the Commander wore on the battlefield and in the war room.

Lexa looked more regal than Clarke could ever remember seeing her. She was wearing a solid black strapless dress that hugged her form perfectly. Her usual red sash had been rearranged so it was attached to the top of her dress and hung down her shoulders like a robe. There was a hint of red and black swirling marks peeking out from the top of Lexa’s shoulder that Clarke suspected were connected to the small glimpse of the tattoo on Lexa’s back she had seen when she first woke up in Polis. Clarke’s eyes were trailing down the laces that held together the plunging neckline almost like a corset when she realized she had probably been staring for longer than was acceptable. Bringing her eyes back up to meet Lexa’s face, she realized Lexa had been doing the same.

“That dress suits you well, Clarke,” Lexa said, the solemn look in her eyes from earlier replaced by an intensity that was all too familiar to Clarke. She stepped into the hall and closed her bedroom door behind her.

“Mochof, and the same to you. I’ve never seen you wear a dress before,” Clarke commented. “I’m not fully ready yet, though. I still need to braid my hair,” she said, turning to enter her room.

“Actually, that’s why I had you notify me when you were dressed. The Day of Remembrance is our most respected tradition, and if you would let me, I wanted to braid your hair so that you would be fully following our customs for this day,” Lexa said softly.

Clarke turned around, surprise evident on her face. Lexa quickly continued, “Or I could have one of my handmaids braid your hair for you, if that’s what you would prefer. They’re all very good, I can assure you, as I require assistance to braid my own hair.”

“No, it’s fine if you do it. I’m used to you anyway,” Clarke said, and though Lexa was shocked at the casual implied reference to her holding Clarke each night, she didn’t show it.

Clarke sat in the chair between the bed and the window and allowed Lexa to work in silence. She wondered if Lexa had ever braided someone else’s hair for them and doubted it had happened but a few times.

Lexa ran her fingers nimbly through Clarke’s hair and organized it into a series of small braids that began at her temple and joined together at the back of her head, allowing the rest of her hair to fall loosely down her back in small waves. She glanced over periodically at the large painting of the man she assumed to be related to Clarke due to the resemblance in their eyes.

“That’s a very impressive painting, Clarke. He’s your father?” Lexa asked quietly as she combed out the last remaining tangle in Clarke’s hair with her fingers.

Clarke nodded once as Lexa’s fingers stilled and her hands moved to rest on the back of the chair. “You should try to picture his face when you begin to feel overwhelmed. His and anyone else’s who make you feel safe or happy. That’s what helped me in my early days of being Heda,” Lexa whispered. “I still do it sometimes,” she admitted.

Clarke turned to look at Lexa and saw the fragility hiding just behind her eyes. She nodded once, giving her a small smile.

Lexa stood up straight after a moment when there was a knock on the door and a male voice called, “Heda?”

“The guards are here to escort us to the town square where the festival will begin. Shall I get you a mirror so you can inspect your braids?” Lexa asked Clarke who was absentmindedly running her fingers along the ridges of her braids.

“No,” Clarke said simply. “I trust you.”


	12. Day of Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _*People of Polis, we gather here today to honor and remember those we have lost, with particular emphasis on those who have passed since our last Day of Remembrance,* Lexa spoke loudly and clearly to her people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken.
> 
> I had planned to add this chapter earlier this week, but I've been sick the past few days. Hopefully this one and the next chapter will be worth the wait. As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Clarke followed Lexa and her guards through the city to the plaza. Every resident of Polis must be present, she figured, as there were more people gathered than she had ever seen at once since landing on the ground. She spotted Nyko at the back of the throng and quietly sidled up next to him, not wishing to draw attention to herself by accompanying Lexa to the center of the square through the crowd.

Though it was almost uncomfortably crowded, the mass of people parted without having to be told as they laid eyes on their commander. Some of them called out, “Heda!” as she passed by, and Clarke could see the reverence and adoration written upon each of their faces. Lexa truly was a beloved leader.

As Lexa reached the center of the square, the crowd fell silent, all eyes on their Heda as they waited patiently. Clarke scrunched up her face in confusion when Lexa began to speak in Trigedasleng, still having only mastered a few simple phrases and words during her brief time on the ground and in Polis. Nyko noticed, however, and began to whisper Lexa’s speech translated to English for Clarke’s benefit.

*People of Polis, we gather here today to honor and remember those we have lost, with particular emphasis on those who have passed since our last Day of Remembrance,* Lexa spoke loudly and clearly to her people. *Though we mourn and grieve for the loss of those close to us and those who have protected us, we must also at the same time celebrate the gift of life. Some of those we have lost died giving their lives for us, our people. Some of those we have lost were not warriors but still touched our lives in different ways and brought us joy. We have lost fighters, mentors, teachers, merchants, healers, friends, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. We grieve for them, but our fight is not yet over. Today we honor their lives and celebrate the lives that continue to flourish here in Polis and our neighboring villages. And we remember that in time our spirits will once more be reunited.*

Clarke smiled as Nyko translated the last line, remembering Lexa’s casual admission when they were trapped by the pauna that her people believed in reincarnation and that the Commander Spirit selected her as the next Heda. Clarke didn’t think her views on the afterlife aligned with Lexa’s, but she still respected them. She watched as a man standing at the front of the crowd moved to stand next to Lexa and began speaking. Clarke noticed that Indra’s demeanor changed to look rather solemn after the man spoke a particular phrase.

“What’s he saying?” Clarke whispered to Nyko. “It sounds like he’s reading off a list of names.”

“Sha,” Nyko nodded, his eyes glassy. “He is listing those our people have lost since the last Day of Remembrance.”

Clarke nodded her acknowledgement, swallowing the lump in her throat. She knew Nyko must be thinking of the village massacre that Finn had committed.

Finn. Clarke blinked back tears as she remembered plunging the knife into his heart as he was tied to the post, whispering that he would be okay as his head drooped lifeless onto her shoulder. How Lexa had stopped her people from taking revenge on Clarke simply by calling out, “It is done.” Clarke wondered if Lexa had known that was her plan all along, as there had been a glimmer of understanding and sorrow in her eyes when she nodded her approval of Clarke being allowed to say goodbye to Finn.

Clarke thought of the others she had lost, purposely avoiding thinking of those whose life she had taken. Wells, Charlotte, Atom, Fox, her dad.

Clarke was pulled from her memories when the man spoke a name she recognized, *Anya Kom Tri Kru.* She instantly thought back to the first time she met Lexa and how she had lied to her about the circumstances of Anya’s death. She glanced at Lexa and observed how her jaw clenched in response to hearing Anya’s name. Though her face remained stoic, she cast her eyes to the ground. Some day Clarke would tell Lexa the truth but not today.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

It was evening now, and Clarke sat next to Nyko at one of many wooden tables that had been set up in the square. After the man had finished reading off the names, various people took turns giving brief speeches about those they had lost in the past year, many of them clutching braids of the deceased. Clarke hadn’t asked Nyko to translate those, so she passively listened as she focused her attention on thinking of those she had personally lost.

Torches illuminated the square, and the night sky was filled with animated chatter as the people of Polis enjoyed the Day of Remembrance feast. The wine flowed freely, and a few of the townspeople had begun to play flutes and drums, causing others to begin a lighthearted dance in the middle of the square.

Clarke’s table was one of the farthest from the square center, and she was grateful because it meant less attention would be focused on her. She had caught a few people sneaking glances at her every so often and then whispering to others throughout the day and was ready to be back in her room away from wandering eyes.

She turned her attention to Lexa who sat across from her, surrounded by her guards, servants, and their families. Earlier Lexa had been interrupted every few minutes by the children of Polis, who had come up to give her small tokens of their appreciation for her service as their Heda or to show off their improvement in their skills at handling a wooden sword. Each time Lexa had respectfully paused eating to give them her full, undivided attention, but she was now conversing rapidly in Trigedasleng with Indra and a few of her guards.

It had just occurred to Clarke that everyone else in Polis except Lexa seemed to be seated with their families when someone bumped into her, sloshing a few drops of wine onto her arm. She turned around and recognized the person as one of Lexa’s warriors, Hawk.

Hawk was clearly drunk as he swayed slightly on his feet. “My apologies, Clarke of the Sky People,” he slurred. Clarke was about to voice her acceptance of his apology when he continued, “Did you enjoy our celebration today? Maybe we should have held a separate Day of Remembrance just for those whose fights were ended at your hands, Wanheda,” he said lightheartedly though the look in his eyes was cold.

Clarke felt her heart stop at the mention of the nickname. She knew enough basic Trigedasleng to know exactly what it meant and what Hawk was implying. Faces of those she had killed began flashing before her, and she thought she might hyperventilate until she realized Hawk was begin thrown to the ground.

Lexa stood over him, snarling with a terrifying look in her eyes. *You were warned to never address the Skai Heda as such, and now you will pay for it with your life,* she growled as she pressed a knife into his throat.

Clarke gained control of herself that instant and grabbed Lexa’s arm before she could press in. “Lexa, you can’t do this! You can’t kill him just because he spilled wine on me and called me Wanheda! He’s just drunk!” Clarke demanded, looking into Lexa’s eyes. “No one else should have to die because of me,” she added in a whisper that only Lexa could hear.

Lexa huffed but slackened her grip on Hawk’s throat and allowed him to stand. *You are lucky today, Hawk. I will spare your life this once, but do not expect me to show such mercy should this happen again.*

Lexa turned to Clarke with a mixture of anger and sadness in her eyes before she stormed off toward her house. Clarke waited a moment before she gritted her teeth in annoyance and irritation and pushed herself up from the table to follow Lexa.


	13. Wanheda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t want me to remember how I earned that nickname? Or maybe you don’t want to hear it and be reminded that it’s ultimately your fault that people call me Wanheda now,” Clarke bit back, and Lexa’s stoic façade faltered slightly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Asterisks (*) that replace quotation marks around dialogue indicate that Trigedasleng is being spoken.
> 
> I had planned to update much sooner, but I'm just now getting over being sick. I hope you'll find this chapter, which is almost 2.5 times longer than all of the others, to be worth the wait. As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Lexa was just about to turn the doorknob and enter her room when Clarke spat out her name from the end of the hallway, “Lexa!” She turned, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest as Clarke stormed toward her.

“What the hell was that, Lexa?” Clarke asked furiously, still advancing toward Lexa. She was seething with rage. “You can’t just kill people who go around slurring insults because they’re drunk!”

“Yes, I can,” challenged Lexa evenly. “He disobeyed a direct command to never refer to you by that name. It matters little to me how much wine he drank. He knew the consequences.”

“Oh, really? So you forbade your warriors from referring to me as the _Commander of Death_?” Clarke questioned incredulously. “Don’t want me to remember how I earned that nickname? Or maybe you don’t want to hear it and be reminded that it’s ultimately your fault that people call me _Wanheda_ now,” Clarke bit back, and Lexa’s stoic façade faltered slightly.

“If you hadn’t left me on that mountain, I never would’ve had to commit _mass murder_ to save my people. I had to kill people who were innocent, Lexa. People who had helped us. Children, Lexa! I murdered children because of you!” Clarke spat with a terrifying chill to her voice. She continued to advance into Lexa’s personal space, causing her to step backward.

“What was it that you said once? _‘The Sky People march with us now. Anyone who tries to stop that will pay with their life.’_ Right, Lexa?” she seethed, pulling the knife Lincoln had given her from its sheath on her ankle. One of the many things he had taught her was to never go unarmed, and the way the dress flowed loosely around her feet made the knife virtually undetectable.

Clarke twirled the knife in her hand as she stepped toward Lexa. “So maybe if you’re going to kill those who call me _Wanheda_ , maybe you should just start with the source of the problem – you,” she said as she backed Lexa into the wall and placed the knife at her throat.

Lexa had never once taken her eyes off the icy blue storm raging in Clarke’s throughout the entire encounter, though her mouth had fallen slightly open in shock at her actions. The feeling of the cold metal blade on her throat, though, caused her to quickly regain her composure, and she pulled her lips into an angry snarl, clenching her jaw.

“You were born for this, same as me, Clarke,” she responded bitterly. “I didn’t force you to do anything. What you did inside that mountain you did for your people, same as me. We both did what we had to do to survive. We both did what we had to do to save our people,” Lexa said, never attempting to move from the wall or disarm Clarke.

“They gave me the option to save all of my people without spilling a single drop of blood or risking any of my people’s lives. I would’ve been a fool to refuse, especially after the worthless attempt at getting that door open. You would’ve made the same choice, and you know it. In fact, you did make the same choice when you pulled that lever, Clarke,” Lexa said angrily.

“I told you I made that choice with my head and not with my heart, and I know you understand. I am the leader of my people, and my duties to them as Heda always come first. My feelings for you are heavily outweighed by my responsibility for their survival. I overstep by even allowing myself to have feelings for you because that is not a luxury I am allowed to have as Heda. Can you honestly say you would not have chosen the same, to save all of your people with no casualties even if it meant breaking an alliance with invaders you had known for a fortnight at most? When it was the first real chance in the decades of torture and exploitation of your people to end it all?” Lexa questioned.

She paused momentarily and was met with silence, shock written on Clarke’s face. “Exactly,” Lexa sharply nodded once, her nostrils flared with anger. “Same. As. Me,” she punctuated every word.

Clarke opened her mouth, trying to assemble the thoughts racing around her head into coherent sentences, but Lexa cut her off.

“Yes, we are the same, Clarke of the Sky People. We have both been dealt unfortunate hands in life and have been placed into roles of leadership that we did not ask for. We have both killed for our people. We have both lost people we love, and I don’t have to say how much we have suffered,” Lexa said.

“But the difference between you and I, Clarke, is that I embrace the weight that has been placed on my shoulders and don’t try to pass it off onto someone else. That decision was a painful one, but I would do it again and again, every single time. I bear that pain so they didn’t have to. You made the same decision to save your people, but you’re projecting your guilt over its consequences onto me to make yourself feel better,” Lexa spoke harshly, and the truth stung as it hit Clarke’s ears. “But I allow it to happen. You can blame me if that’s what it takes for you to be able to live with your actions. I will bear that pain so you don’t have to.”

When Clarke didn’t respond, she continued. “After I allowed you to mercy kill the boy who murdered 18 innocent villagers, I asked you if you did not wish it was my heart you plunged the knife into,” Lexa stated, stepping forward to press her throat into the knife more firmly so that it cut a gash into her neck. “It took you a second, but you shook your head no, just once. Can you still give the same answer?” she asked quietly, her voice breaking as blood began to drip down to her collarbone.

Clarke’s eyes widened as she saw the blood, and she glanced back up into Lexa’s eyes, glistening in a rare display of vulnerability. She had just begun to take a step backward to ease the pressure of the knife against Lexa’s throat when Indra appeared at the end of the hallway.

Taking in the scene before her, she began to draw the sword hanging from her waist, and the sound drew both Lexa and Clarke’s attention.

*Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op!* Lexa growled at Indra. *Gon we!*

Indra’s hand stilled, her sword only halfway unsheathed. She clenched her jaw, staring daggers into Clarke, who was pulling the knife away from Lexa’s throat. *Heda-* she began.

*Em pleni, Indra,* Lexa commanded. “You will not disobey a direct order. An attack against me will cost you your life. Leave us. Now.”

Indra shoved her sword back into its sheath and nodded once, angrily, at Lexa. *Sha, Heda,* she said through tight lips as she shot a last angry glare at Clarke before turning to go back down the stairs.

Clarke’s left hand fell limply by her side, still holding the knife, from which Lexa’s blood was lazily dripping onto the floor.

Lexa fixed her gaze into Clarke’s eyes, her own wide and expressive. “Did that make you feel better?” she asked softly but with an edge to her voice before she opened the door to her room and went inside, shutting it firmly behind her.

Clarke stared at the closed door for a few seconds before she whispered, “No,” and turned to enter her own room.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke stood at her easel, sketching a portrait of Wells with charcoal to ease her tension and anxiety. Several hours had passed since she had pressed her knife into Lexa’s throat, and it was now quite late. She had long ago changed out of her borrowed dress and into a simple tunic and pants, tying her hair up into a knot on the top of her head without undoing her braids.

She thought of Wells as the charcoal glided across the paper in her hand. He had allowed her to believe it was he who sold her father out for so long just to protect her and her relationship with her only remaining parent. It occurred to her that Lexa was currently playing the same part, except this time it was to save her from herself. She swallowed the truth of Lexa’s words bitterly.

The command Lexa had given to Indra in Trigedasleng flashed through Clarke’s mind, and she realized she had heard her say that same phrase before. She had snarled it at Quint when he had been about to kill her. Clarke knew enough basic Trigedasleng now to piece together what the phrase meant even without the added context of Lexa telling Indra that an attack against her would result in the loss of her life. In the moment Clarke hadn’t been able to focus enough to discern the meaning, but she now understood.

“Attack her and you attack me,” she whispered aloud to herself, her hand stilling on the paper. She remembered how visibly torn Lexa looked as she broke the alliance, the desperation with which Lexa had uttered the Traveler’s Blessing, and the conversation they had shared in which she had explained the significance and meaning of “May we meet again” to Lexa.

Clarke had just set the piece of charcoal down on her bedside table when she heard a noise from across the hall. It was Lexa’s voice, and she sounded distressed. Picking up the same knife she had held against Lexa’s throat earlier and had since cleaned, she rushed out of her room and into Lexa’s.

Clarke had never been in Lexa’s room before and was immediately taken aback by the large number of books stacked on a large shelf that stood against the wall. The other wall, filled with rows of weapons, was something she had anticipated, but she hadn’t expected books.

Lexa was groaning and thrashing in her bed in the throes of what appeared to be a nightmare. Clarke crossed the room with the aid of the light of the night sky streaming in through the window thanks to the curtains being pulled back. As she got closer, something on the bedside table caught her eye, and she glanced down. She took in the five braids laid out carefully there, one with red hair, one she recognized as Anya’s, another one black that she figured belonged to Gustus, and two with dark brown hair like Lexa’s. Clarke was reminded of the significance of the day that had just passed, the Day of Remembrance, and it occurred to her for the first time ever to wonder about Lexa’s parents.

Lexa awoke with a start, gasping and heart racing as she noticed Clarke standing next to her bed gripping a knife. “Come to finish what you started and slit my throat with my own knife?” she asked casually, apparently not fazed.

Clarke scrunched her face in confusion before the weight of the knife in her left hand registered, and she quickly placed it on the bedside table, her face burning. She was about to explain that she had come to see what was troubling Lexa when she realized she had set the knife next to Anya’s braid placed at the end of the row and was hit with a wave of guilt. The very alliance that Lexa had betrayed had begun with Clarke lying about the circumstances of Anya’s death.

Lexa pushed the furs off of her body, climbing out of her bed. Her hair fell in loose, wild curls, and she wore a sleeveless shirt and short pants, having washed away her war paint and unbraided her hair before turning in for the night. She stepped around Clarke and began to pour herself a cup of water as Clarke spoke, “Lexa, I lied to you about Anya’s death.”

Lexa sat the carafe down, turning to face Clarke with her cup in hand. “She wasn’t trying to get a message to you that we should form an alliance. She had taken me prisoner after we escaped from the mountain and intended to bring me to you. But then we fought, and I overpowered her, forcing her to go with me to Camp Jaha. I had just set her free to try to make amends and she had agreed to get me an audience with you when a guard shot her because they thought we were Grounders about to attack them,” Clarke finished quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor, afraid of looking at Lexa.

Lexa continued to stare at Clarke as she took a sip of water. Setting the cup down, she stated simply, “I know.”

Clarke’s head shot up in confusion to meet Lexa’s. “Obviously I didn’t know one of your people killed her, but, Clarke, I knew Anya my entire life. She would have never fully supported an alliance between our people, at least not so quickly and without consulting me,” Lexa said, still looking at Clarke. “I knew you being deceptive to some degree when you told me how she died the first time you entered my tent. I am probably the only one of my people who actually wanted the alliance,” Lexa finished dryly.

“I-,” Clarke began but then stopped as Lexa’s earlier words hit her. “What do you mean _your_ knife? You asked if I was here to slit your throat with _your_ knife.”

Clarke glanced down again to look at the knife lying on the table, at the tiny pieces of golden bronze metal adorning each end of the handle. Their conversation about Anya and seeing Anya’s braid sent her mind reeling to the first time she had stepped into Lexa’s tent to propose an alliance. She could see Lexa sitting on her throne, twirling that very same knife in her hand as she called out, “You’re the one…”

“But Lincoln told me Indra gave him the knife so he could choose whether or not to stay with you or set himself free to return to the Mountain to help us,” Clarke stated, still a little confused.

“Ah, I’d been wondering how you came into possession of my favorite knife since I noticed it on you the day my guards brought you into the war room after you were attacked by that bear,” Lexa stated.

“You gave the knife to Indra? You’re the one who wanted Lincoln to be set free?” Clarke asked, filling in the blanks. When Lexa simply nodded in response, Clarke questioned further, “Why? You were the one who ordered your other warriors to forcefully remove him from the Mountain when you called for the retreat.”

“The terms of the treaty with the Mountain Men dictated that I remove all of my people from the mountain permanently. My people would have questioned my leadership if I had allowed Lincoln to choose your people over his own,” Lexa replied. “But I ordered Indra to release him in secret because even though you may not believe me, in my heart I didn’t want to break our alliance and leave you. I knew he could help, and I thought at least one of us should have the freedom to choose to be with the one we cared about.”

Clarke was stunned, both at the revelation concerning the knife and at the casual way Lexa spoke of her feelings for her, so different from the difficulty with which she had revealed that she cared for her months ago.

The look on Lexa’s face was soft as she continued quietly, “Many terrible things happen in our world, Clarke, and the only comfort we get is that we didn’t cause them. I was harsh with you earlier, Clarke, but I meant what I said. I understand why you’re angry with me, and I understand if you want and need to blame me for what happened inside the Mountain when you saved your people.”

Clarke didn’t think she had ever seen Lexa look so raw or vulnerable. “I can bear that burden. I can handle being the cause of your anger if that means you do not direct your guilt inward upon yourself. I commanded my warriors to not call you that unspeakable, vile name because I did not want you to hear it and be reminded of the Mountain. Because I know how much it troubles you at night,” Lexa said softly, her heart beating rapidly with the anxiety of revealing her feelings though she did not show it. “If this is what it takes for you to survive, then so be it.”

Clarke felt the staccato rhythm being played out in her chest as Lexa’s words sunk into her. “I think we both agree we deserve a life about more than just survival,” she said, her eyes trailing from Lexa’s down to her lips. Closing the distance between her and Lexa, she threw her left hand behind Lexa’s neck and pressed her lips against Lexa’s.

Lexa was taken off-guard at first but quickly relaxed, placing her hands tentatively on Clarke’s hips and causing Clarke to deepen the kiss. Clarke brought her right hand to the small of Lexa’s back, pulling her closer.

Neither of them knew how long the kiss had lasted when they broke apart some time later, Clarke grazing her teeth over Lexa’s bottom lip as they rested their foreheads against one another and caught their breath.

Clarke’s pulse thundered in her chest and her ears as Lexa whispered, “Stay?” She simply nodded in response, and they both slipped under the furs in Lexa’s bed and fell asleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The faces of innocents from Mount Weather, lying dead on the dining room tables, flashed through Clarke’s head as she endured yet another nightmare some time later that night. She forced her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. She remembered Lexa’s earlier advice of trying to picture the faces of people who made her happy. She quickly summoned her father’s beaming visage to the forefront of her mind. _Dad. Mom. Wells. Bellamy. Octavia. Lincoln. Raven._

She paused her rotation of faces as she glanced down at the still sleeping form draped across her. Lexa’s head rested on her shoulder, and her arm was slung protectively across her stomach. _Lexa_. She smiled as she mentally added Lexa to the catalogue of people who made her happy and then drifted off to sleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op* = "Attack her and you attack me"  
> *Gon we* = "Leave"  
> *Em pleni* = "Enough"


	14. Warrior Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She reached over and picked up Anya’s braid from the table, remembering how stoic the General was and how she was always prepared to fight for her life. There was no question as to who must’ve influenced Lexa’s personality and demeanor, and she tried to picture Anya and Lexa training together. The thought of Anya slapping mud across Lexa’s face as she taught her to move stealthily through the woods caused her to chuckle out loud, remembering how Anya had so bluntly told her that she reeked as they escaped the Mountain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Well, we're nearing the end here. I'm planning for there to be about 5 more chapters, so things are about to start getting more intense. As always, you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.
> 
> Less than two weeks from the third season now!

Clarke awoke to find the bed empty, which she’d certainly grown accustomed to during her time in Polis, but she was still surprised at Lexa’s ability to leave without waking her. She sighed and then turned on her side, grimacing as the early morning sunlight peeking through the window greeted her eyes. She blinked a few times to allow her eyes to adjust and then once more took notice of the five braids lying on Lexa’s bedside table, two clearly belonging to Anya and Gustus, two matching Lexa’s hair color, and one red.

_Gustus._ Clarke had thrown Lexa’s feelings for Gustus in her face shortly after he had died at Lexa’s own hands. “Because he was trying to protect her from making an alliance with me,” she thought to herself.

She reached over and picked up Anya’s braid from the table, remembering how stoic the General was and how she was always prepared to fight for her life. There was no question as to who must’ve influenced Lexa’s personality and demeanor, and she tried to picture Anya and Lexa training together. The thought of Anya slapping mud across Lexa’s face as she taught her to move stealthily through the woods caused her to chuckle out loud, remembering how Anya had so bluntly told her that she reeked as they escaped the Mountain.

The laugh died on her lips as she thought about how the strong, fearless Anya had fallen lifeless next to her just outside the gates of Camp Jaha. Looking at the braids, it occurred to her that she seemed to have caused just as much grief and sorrow in Lexa’s life as Lexa had in her own.

Clarke knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep any longer until it was time to report to Nyko in the healing tent, so she replaced Anya’s braid on the table and pushed herself out of bed. Once more she took in the vast number of books in Lexa’s room with slight confusion and awe. She stepped forward to run her fingers along the books’ spines on the shelf, noting how worn they seemed. There appeared to be a mixture of books in both English and Trigedasleng on a wide variety of topics.

“She was a teacher,” Lexa said out of nowhere, and Clarke jumped, startled once again at Lexa’s ability to move so quietly.

Clarke turned to look at Lexa with a question in her eyes, and Lexa nodded toward the red braid lying on the table. “Costia,” she answered as she strode across the room to pull several swords off of her wall, securing them in sheaths held on her back and at her waist. Her hair was once more pulled back into intricate braids, and she was dressed in the clothing she normally wore when training. “Almost all of those books are hers, the ones not about tactical training and wars, that is,” Lexa said.

Clarke’s heart ached for Lexa. There was strength in her voice, but when Clarke looked into her eyes all she saw was pain. “I’m sure she was a great teacher, Lexa,” Clarke said, moving closer to Lexa so that she could run her thumb across her cheek and then dropping her hand to grasp Lexa’s own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Lexa nodded her head once in appreciation, allowing a small smile to grace her face.

Clarke instantly thought of the conversations she had had with Lexa immediately before and after killing Finn. She had pleaded with Lexa in part to save his life but also to wash away her guilt because he had committed mass murder for her. And Lexa had told her that her own suffering would be far worse than that of the village’s survivors. That what she had done would haunt her for the rest of her days.

Gazing into Lexa’s eyes, she now realized how Lexa had been talking about herself and Costia’s death just as much as she had been referring to Clarke’s situation then. Lexa’s words of “same as me” echoed through her mind, and she found herself beginning to agree with her.

Lexa allowed herself to savor the moment with Clarke’s hand holding her own, not wanting to misstep or make any assumptions even after Clarke had kissed her last night. She noticed that Clarke seemed distracted and took the opportunity to end the moment, stating, “I must leave for the training field now to oversee my warriors.”

As Lexa removed her hand from Clarke’s, Clarke snapped back to the present. “Wait,” she said as she took her newly freed hand and grabbed Lexa’s waist. She pulled her slightly forward and kissed her softly and briefly.

Lexa’s pulse thundered in her ears as they separated, and she couldn’t prevent a grin from spreading across her face when she saw that Clarke too was smiling. “I hope you enjoy your first day of working with Nyko. I have no doubt that you two will be able to benefit from sharing your healing knowledge and techniques,” she said before finally exiting the room to meet her warriors at the training field.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Later that morning after Clarke had bathed, she made her way to the healing tent, passing by a man who was exiting just as she arrived. Nyko smiled as she entered the tent and motioned toward a plate of fruit and warm bread.

“Clarke, you’re just in time. My partner Ezra has just brought us breakfast, and so far no one has come to my tent this morning needing medical attention,” Nyko greeted, nodding his head to indicate the man Clarke had just passed. “And since Heda is leading the training sessions today, we’d better take advantage of this moment because I’m sure it won’t be too long before this healing tent is filled with warriors once she gets started.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Nyko proved to be right. As the day stretched on and the sound of metal clinking together in battle could be heard from the training field, warriors trickled into the tent to have their cuts bandaged. Clarke was relieved at least to see that no one was seriously injured and that most of the warriors did not seem to have a problem with her treating them.

That all changed, of course, when Indra stormed into the tent late in the afternoon, bleeding from her arm. Indra chose to stand near the entrance of the tent, clearly waiting on Nyko to finish bandaging the warrior’s leg he was currently working on in favor of being treated by Clarke who was not attending to anyone.

Clarke allowed this to continue for a few minutes before she grew frustrated and addressed the general, “Indra, it’s obvious that you don’t like me, but I assure you I am capable of treating the cut on your arm. You’re wasting time that you could be training by being stubborn and waiting for Nyko.” Indra shot a dark glare at Clarke but strode toward her anyway, rolling up her sleeve.

It didn’t take Clarke long to wrap Indra’s cut, as it was not very deep. She worked in silence with Indra scowling the entire time and staring off into the distance rather than making eye contact with Clarke.

As soon as Clarke tied the bandage off, she stood and made her way to the entrance of the tent, stopping to address Nyko before exiting. “Heda says you may close the healing tent just after the sun fully sets when training ends today.”

Clarke waited a few moments after Indra left before she couldn’t contain her frustration any longer even though she understood the reasons for the constant anger Indra directed toward her. She was sure seeing her holding a knife to Lexa’s throat the previous evening hadn’t eased the extreme hatred Indra seemed to harbor for her.

“Does she ever smile?” Clarke asked incredulously.

Nyko chuckled sadly in response. “Indra is very harsh, but she does smile. Or at least she used to,” Nyko said.

Clarke scrunched her face in confusion, trying to reconcile the Indra she knew with a smiling, happy Indra.

“Her son and partner were both part of the 300 warriors sent to attack your ship shortly after you landed here. They were able to identify her son Dominick’s body despite the extensive burns on his body, but she couldn’t do the same for her partner Wren. I think she assumed he was dead as well until she saw that he had been turned into a Reaper when she was in the tunnels during the battle at the Mountain. Her sense of duty to our people is strong, so she was forced to leave him there when Heda sounded the retreat. And because our people are unable to turn Reapers back into men,” Nyko said softly, and suddenly Clarke understood exactly why Indra openly loathed her.

“I had no idea,” Clarke said quietly after a moment, her voice cracking.

“I am not sure that she would be pleased to know that I had shared that information with you, though, Clarke,” Nyko said pointedly.

Clarke nodded her head. “Of course.”

They sat in silence in the tent for quite some time, each reorganizing their supplies before Nyko spoke up again. “The sun has nearly set now. Since there is no one here, you could take a break from the tent to see how much longer training will last if you’d like,” he said. “You should be back by the time I’ve finished going through my supplies, and then I’ll be able to show you how to make a healing salve, the same one I treated you with, actually.”

“I’d like that, Nyko. I’ll be back shortly,” Clarke said as she exited the tent for the training field.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The clashing of swords against one another rang out as Clarke approached the training field, taking in the sight of hundreds of warriors sparring together. She scanned the field for Lexa, her breath catching slightly when she found her and realized she was sparring with children.

Clarke had found herself surprised at the young appearance of some of the warriors who had entered the healing tent to be bandaged today, but all of them had to be at least young teenagers. None of them were as young or as tiny as the children with which Lexa was currently training, and she was glad that none of them had been hurt.

She watched as Lexa twirled a large, smooth staff effortlessly in her hands, blocking the dull swords of each child as they came forward one by one on her command to attack her. Though she was too far away to hear her, Clarke could tell that Lexa was calling out instructions to each child as they sparred and that she was moving much slower than she would be in a real battle. Clarke knew that she hadn’t had any of these tiny warriors in her tent today because of the extreme care with which Lexa was currently training them.

As she watched Lexa and the children, it occurred to her that Lexa’s childhood must have closely resembled those of the tiny warriors with whom she was sparring. A few of the children barely met Lexa’s waist, and still a few others were even shorter than that, only tall enough to be even with Lexa’s upper thigh.

Clarke pictured a tiny version of Lexa, sporting her traditional war paint and intricate braids, as she sparred with a young Anya. Her heart swelled at the thought, but the beginnings of a smile were quickly replaced with a frown as she wondered if there had ever been a time when Lexa’s life hadn’t been only about survival.


	15. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He ran through the seemingly never-ending forest, his chest burning from the exertion. He risked a glance over his shoulder, eyes wild with terror, but he saw no one in the pitch-black trees as he raced on with only the moonlight to guide him. He was breathing heavily, and sweat was pouring down his body, leaving obvious tracks as it cleared away the weeks and weeks of dirt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks are presented in _italics_.
> 
> There are probably going to be 4 or 5 more chapters, but that could easily change. This chapter sort of got away from me, and it's the longest one yet. I'm still hoping to finish before the third season premieres next week. You'll also notice that I've updated the rating for this piece.
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

_He ran through the seemingly never-ending forest, his chest burning from the exertion. He risked a glance over his shoulder, eyes wild with terror, but he saw no one in the pitch-black trees as he raced on with only the moonlight to guide him. He was breathing heavily, and sweat was pouring down his body, leaving obvious tracks as it cleared away the weeks and weeks of dirt._

_His body cried out for him to stop and rest or at least slow down. Still, he knew he couldn’t risk stopping and letting them capture him. He had some vague ideas about what they would do to him if that happened, and he couldn’t risk it. “Filthy savages,” he thought to himself as he weaved around the trees._

_His lungs struggled to keep up with his heavy breathing, exhaled in tiny bursts of visible clouds, and his pulse hammered in his ears. He began to feel nauseous and knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He was frantic with fear as a frosty riverbank came into sight, dotted with dense shrubbery, and he knew he had to take a chance._

_Glancing behind him once more and seeing nothing, he focused all of his energy into running straight to the river’s edge where he threw his hat into the water. Then he quickly backed up and dove into the bushes, hoping their fullness and the cover of night would prevent him from being found._

_He crouched low and submerged himself as fully as possible, his pulse thundering out of control and giving him a headache as he tried to quietly catch his breath. His hand grazed over the two guns he carried to help steady himself, but it was only a false comfort. He had never meant to spend this much time in the wilderness on his own. He had intended to reach his destination long ago, and now he was completely out of ammunition._

_Cursing silently inside his head, he pulled one of the guns from its holster and gripped it tightly, hoping he could trick those chasing him into believing it was loaded if they found him. “Great plan,” he thought to himself, wincing from a combination of fear, pain, and frustration. “I can only hope that these savages fear guns just as much as the others.”_

_He didn’t know how long he had sat there, hidden on the edge of the riverbank, and he felt his legs going numb. He had been listening attentively the entire time, adrenaline coursing through his body as he maintained his high alert status, but he hadn’t heard so much as the snap of a twig or the crunching of a leaf. Part of him told him that the silence was a good thing, meaning his pursuers had lost track of him or simply given up. But a larger part of him felt a chilling sense of dread, knowing how stealthy those savages were._

_As he began to regain control over his breath and his hammering heart, he weighed his options internally. He had been sitting for a very long time, and he could either continue to do that, or he could take a risk and continue fleeing. He mulled over his dilemma and chose the latter of the two ideas, knowing that while staying in the bushes did offer him some protection, he could also end up sitting there only to be found when he could at least be trying to escape. He had too much pride to end life as a lamb waiting for slaughter._

_The eerie silence of the woods did nothing to calm his nerves as he began to ready himself to once again make a run for it. Steeling himself and taking one last big gulp of air, he launched himself up and barreled out of the bushes toward the river._

_He had just taken his first running step into the water when he heard it. He barely had time to process the sound of the arrow piercing the air before it entered his shoulder from behind. The force of the impact knocked him face-first into the mud, and he groaned in pain. He was barely in the water but instantly began to feel chilled to the bone, and he cursed the severity of the northern winters._

_Just as he was mustering up the strength to push himself into a standing position, a fist connected with his temple, and suddenly everything went black._

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke awoke with a groan as the sunlight streaming in through the window danced across her face. She quickly slapped a hand over her eyes in an attempt to block it out, but she knew it was useless. Her body’s natural circadian rhythm that had been kept well in check since landing on the ground had been given a brief reprieve while she was recovering from the attack by the radiated bear. But she had been well for over two weeks now, and her body had once again resumed its natural cycle, thanks largely in part to her daily routine of working in the healing tent alongside Nyko.

She laid her hand on her stomach and grimaced with pain as she kept her eyes shut tight despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep any longer. Her ribs ached from the exertion of training every evening after she and Nyko left the healing tent the past two weeks. She had trained particularly hard last night, and she was definitely paying for it now. Clarke thought it might be possible that every single muscle in her body was aching, but she smiled at the pain anyway because she knew it meant she was growing stronger. Her quick progress had brought pride not only to her but also to Lexa, and Clarke’s smile grew even larger with the thought of Lexa’s satisfaction with her combat skills.

_The morning after Clarke had witnessed Lexa training children to become warriors, she neared the training field on her way to the healing tent. As she approached she realized it was oddly quiet, not hearing the echoes of swords clanging against one another. She hoped the lack of commotion would make it easier for her to pick Lexa out of the sea of warriors so she could see her and maybe give her a small wave on her way to meet Nyko. Lexa had been gone from the bed already when Clarke woke up, and Clarke was marveling at Lexa’s ability to rise before the sun day in and day out when the training field finally came into view._

_Clarke’s breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. The horde of warriors were congregated on the field leaving a wide, empty circle in the center, in which Clarke immediately spotted Lexa standing several yards away from two very large, intimidating warriors. Lexa wore her traditional war paint, and she twirled that same large staff in her hands casually and loosely through the air, facing the warriors who each clutched a sword. Additionally, one held a battle axe in his grasp while the other possessed a huge war hammer Clarke doubted she could even lift._

_Clarke was caught in a mixture of concern and extreme curiosity as the intensity in Lexa’s eyes registered, and she realized she had never actually seen Lexa in real combat before. As if Lexa could sense Clarke staring from the path slightly uphill from the training ground, she snuck a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, and Clarke thought she saw a smirk appear on Lexa’s face briefly._

_It quickly disappeared, though, as Lexa pulled her lips into a snarl, baring her teeth as she commanded, "Nau!" Immediately two warriors surged forward, and Clarke’s eyes went wide. She had confidence in Lexa’s skills, but these two men towered over the thin Commander._

_Clarke was stuck in place, mesmerized as she watched Lexa battle the hulking men. Lexa swiftly dodged the swinging blows of the battle axe and parried their sword attacks with her staff. The two men were much larger and presumably stronger than Lexa, but she was much quicker on her feet and in her head._

_Clarke was transfixed by the grace and agility with which Lexa moved as if the staff was simply an extension of her body, still on the defense. After a few moments, Lexa saw an opportunity to attack when the warrior with the battle axe came at her and left himself open for a second too long. She knocked the staff hard against his throat and chest, and he stumbled to the ground, the breath having been knocked completely out of him._

_Lexa began to step in a wide circle with the remaining warrior with the war hammer. They stared each other down as they moved before finally they broke at the same time and charged full-force at one another, weapons held high. Clarke gasped out loud as she saw the man swing the war hammer hard, sure he would connect this time with Lexa’s shoulder and shatter it._

_But just as the hammer moved through the space where Lexa had just been, Clarke saw her sliding feet first between the warrior’s legs, popping up smoothly behind him. Lexa kicked him in the back of the knee, forcing him to the ground unexpectedly, and she quickly put the staff horizontally on his neck with both hands and pulled, effectively putting him in a chokehold and incapacitating him. As he dropped his weapons in acceptance of defeat, the crowd of warriors surrounding them began to call out, "Heda!" in appreciation of the Commander’s stunning abilities in combat. Lexa held up a hand to silence them and began to issue orders in rapid Trigedasleng, causing the warriors to break off into groups to resume training._

_Clarke let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She saw the excitement in Lexa’s eyes as her chest heaved from the exertion and found herself admiring Lexa’s lithe body. She was already beginning to feel warm from her thoughts when Lexa turned suddenly to catch her eye, the smirk on her face this time clearly evident. Clarke gulped as her face burned bright red, and she tried to regain her composure as quickly as she could. With a small grin on her face, she waved briefly at Lexa, who nodded in return as a greeting, and then Clarke continued on her way to the healing tent._

_Later that evening Clarke laid in bed in the dark with Lexa, who had positioned herself in her usual manner with her head on Clarke’s shoulder against Clarke’s side. Clarke had made the decision to skip the formality of waiting until one of them woke up from the sounds of the other having a nightmare and slipped across the hall to comfort them, instead choosing to retire directly to Lexa’s room the night after she had kissed her, and Lexa had simply accepted it. They both knew their ability to comfort the other and had silently agreed not to deny themselves at least that any longer._

_They had been silent for a while now, and Clarke’s gentle rubbing of Lexa’s back over her tunic had her on the verge of sleep when Clarke said, “I want you to train me. To fight.”_

_Lexa’s eyes shot open as she looked up at Clarke, and Clarke registered the many emotions she saw. She watched as Lexa looked softly into her eyes, seeming to weigh her thoughts and options as her mind churned._

_Clarke had guessed that Lexa would be conflicted over the idea, torn between wanting Clarke to be able to protect herself if anything should happen and also hating the idea of doing anything that would remind her of the war and destruction that had consumed her life since landing on the ground. So she continued quickly before Lexa could disagree, pleading her case._

_“My gun is useless without bullets, and we both know the world we live in demands the ability to fight in order to survive,” Clarke said, Lexa still staring at her. “And it’s not as if we would be starting from scratch. After all, Lincoln seems to have trained me those few days in the woods at least well enough to not get killed by a radiated bear. So I already have some basic skills at handling swords and knives.” Clarke pictured the knife that Lincoln had given to her, which currently sat on the bedside table, and she gently squeezed Lexa’s hip in silent thanks for giving it to Lincoln so he could escape and help fight the Mountain._

_Lexa waited patiently as Clarke concluded her argument and looked at her with bated breath. She allowed Clarke to squirm internally and prepare to launch into another speech for a few moments before she simply said, “Sha, I agree.” Lexa then moved her head back down so it was once again resting on Clarke’s shoulder before she continued, “And if you are sure that you want me personally to train you, then I will be glad for the opportunity to spend more time together.”_

_Clarke’s mouth was still open from the slight surprise at Lexa’s answer. She hadn’t expected her to give in so easily. She let out a hearty chuckle at Lexa’s last statement. “Who else would I want to train me? The only other warrior I know somewhat well is Indra, and I think she would enjoy training me just a little too much,” Clarke said, thinking that getting to put her through the physical pain and exhaustion of training might just actually please Indra enough to make her smile. “And besides that, you’re clearly the best warrior of them all. The way you moved today as you fought those two huge guys was…something else entirely,” Clarke finished in awe as she played the morning battle back through her mind._

_“Well, I do have the advantage of having trained to be a warrior since I was two,” Lexa said simply and sleepily from her place on Clarke’s shoulder, and Clarke knew Lexa was only stating a fact and not asking for pity or sympathy. Clarke brought both of her arms around Lexa’s back to pull her closer in response, and the two drifted off._

Clarke laid in bed for a few more minutes, reminiscing about that day and her training sessions with Lexa before she finally forced herself up. After changing clothes she packed her medical supplies into her bag and set out for the merchant stalls rather than the training field as she normally would on her way to the healing tent. Clarke’s skill at preparing various salves and herbal teas had improved greatly during her time working with Nyko, and she needed to purchase a few things to renew their supplies.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke had completed her errands and had just made it to the healing tent. She was smiling to herself at the progress Nyko had made in improving his stitching and sterilization techniques as she walked into the tent distracted. She began setting the items needed for the salves that she had just purchased on a table, calling out a greeting to Nyko without looking up, which he returned. She set the last bottle down and turned to move toward Nyko and ask him how the day had been so far when she realized Nyko was treating someone.

At the sound of a familiar voice greeting, “Clarke,” she stopped in her tracks, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. Lexa sat on a cot with her back to Clarke, wearing only her chest wrapping and pants. There was an angry red gash running down the left side of Lexa’s back that Nyko was currently treating, but Clarke was even more distracted by the huge tattoo inked across Lexa’s tan skin.

It ran from Lexa’s shoulders down her back covered slightly by the chest wrapping, drifting briefly over her ribs before dipping back down to disappear into her pants on her hips and lower back. The tattoo was composed of swirling black and red ink, intricately intertwined to form the image of a strong, towering tree with the Helm of Awe that Lexa traditionally wore on her forehead marked on her shoulder blade. It was a beautiful piece, and Clarke tried to reign in her desire to trace the swirling design with her hand. She had never seen this much of Lexa’s skin at once, and she felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Nyko turned from sterilizing the wound that Lexa had sustained during morning training when he realized Clarke hadn’t said anything else, and she had to quickly close her mouth to prevent being caught openly ogling Lexa.

“Clarke, I trust you were able to get everything we need from the merchants this morning?” Nyko asked as he stood up and wiped his hands. Clarke could only nod in response, not trusting her voice just yet, as she forced herself to tear her eyes away from Lexa’s back.

“Good. I’m glad you’re here because I need to check in with Ezra about the fresh bread he told me he would bring us this afternoon. Heda’s wound is not critically deep, but it will most likely require stitching, and you are far more skilled in that area,” Nyko said as he pulled on his jacket. “The tent hasn’t been very busy this morning, and Heda is the only one who has come to see me in the last hour, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to see my partner at the ovens for a while.”

Clarke’s mouth was dry, and she swallowed before nodding in response. Nyko exited the tent, but she was still rooted in her spot, once again taking in the intricate tattoo.

“You’re staring, Clarke,” Lexa called out as she turned her head over her shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. She smirked internally when she saw the expression on Clarke’s face, whose jaw had once again dropped slightly as she roamed her eyes over Lexa’s back. “Are you going to tend to my wound, or should I call Nyko back?”

At that Clarke snapped out of her reverie and walked forward to settle into the chair beside the cot so she could sterilize her hands and a needle. Steadying her hand at the anticipation of touching Lexa’s back for the first time without any material separating their skin, she spread a local anesthetic around the wound. “This still might hurt a little bit, as I’m sure you’re aware,” she said, glancing at the faded scars that sparsely dotted her back and arms.

She felt Lexa’s body tense up as she began to stitch the gash and noticed Lexa clenching her jaw and gritting her teeth. This momentarily distracted Clarke before she regained her focus on the task at hand, wanting to finish the stitches quickly and not prolong Lexa’s discomfort.

Lexa groaned quietly once, and Clarke felt her face flush at the sound. She finished the stitches and covered the wound with a bandage to prevent infection, but neither Clarke nor Lexa made a move to stand. Clarke’s hand lingered over the bandage before she couldn’t resist and began to trail her fingers down Lexa’s spine over the tattoo’s swirls, and she immediately noticed a small tremor go through Lexa’s body and a trail of goosebumps that followed her tracing.

Clarke stopped, removing her hand and standing up. “It’s a beautiful tattoo, Lexa. I’m assuming it symbolizes your status as Commander and represents your people.”

“Sha,” Lexa replied with a slightly shaky voice.

Clarke moved to stand in front of Lexa, whose legs were hanging off the edge of the raised cot. Lexa looked up at her, and Clarke inhaled at the intensity she found in Lexa’s eyes.

“How does your back feel?” Clarke questioned.

“Hurts,” Lexa replied breathlessly, and Clarke huffed out a quiet laugh at the response, remembering that Lexa had responded the same way as Clarke treated her injured arm after their encounter with the pauna.

“Mochof for tending to my wounds once again,” Lexa continued, having recalled the same memory as Clarke.

Clarke moved closer to Lexa to stand between her legs and stroked her thumb across Lexa’s cheek. Lexa’s eyes fluttered closed as Clarke leaned in and captured her lips with her own, and the kiss quickly grew heated.

Lexa’s hands found Clarke’s hips to pull her impossibly closer, and Clarke’s mouth opened in response with a low moan, allowing Lexa’s tongue to brush against Clarke’s bottom lip as she began to kiss her with renewed force. Clarke placed her right hand on the small of Lexa’s back and moved her left from its place at Lexa’s cheek down over Lexa’s shoulder and the top of her back. She skirted her fingers down, just barely brushing against Lexa’s skin as she reached her chest wrapping, and she continued her trail around it to Lexa’s ribs.

Raking her fingers up and down Lexa’s ribs as the intensity of their kiss continued to climb higher and higher, she moved her hand upward until her thumb just grazed the skin underneath the bottom of Lexa’s chest wrapping. She immediately felt Lexa’s sharp intake of breath, which she released as a low moan that set Clarke ablaze. Lexa pulled back, slightly out of breath, pupils extremely dilated, though she maintained her grip on Clarke’s hips. Clarke’s own chest heaved and her pulse thundered as she too caught her breath and admired Lexa’s flushed face.

“I’m sure I do not have to state that I was enjoying this, but I must get back to attend a meeting with a few of my generals and members of the council,” Lexa said, her heart swelling as she took in Clarke’s equally flustered state.

Clarke nodded and pressed a chaste kiss to Lexa’s lips before handing her an extra tunic to wear, as Lexa’s had been cut up and bloody from her injury. “Nyko will be returning soon anyway, and we need to prepare those salves,” she said, moving to retrieve Lexa’s long jacket from the other cot.

But Lexa caught her hand, stopping her. “Clarke, this meeting is to discuss something that you should know about,” she said, and concern and confusion grew on Clarke’s face. “Your people sent word ahead this morning that they are traveling to meet with me to discuss actions they wish to take to improve their camp, as per the terms of the truce we agreed upon during the time that you were gone,” Lexa continued quietly.

“I appreciate you telling me,” Clarke said, still turning the idea of seeing some of her people again for the first time in almost four months over and over again in her head.

“If you do not wish to see them just yet, I can make arrangements so you will not have to, though we will be meeting in the war room in the house, of course,” Lexa said, pulling Clarke closer to her once more, her eyes intently searching Clarke’s for signs of her inner thoughts.

“When will they be here?” Clarke asked.

“Tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nau!* = "Now!"
> 
> Also, for those who'd like a visual aid to help picture the tattoo, I'm basing it off of the following two (warning - slight nudity in the Instagram link). I'm picturing it as being done in the same style and location as the Instagram tattoo (except with black and red ink) with Lexa's Helm of Awe being placed in the same location as the compass in the second link.
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/wvtpPkxApt/?taken-by=annaenola  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/32/99/6b/32996bd7444d839b342c8b957ecd870a.jpg


	16. Love Is Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Clarke felt as if she was truly seeing Lexa for the first time, not as the Commander and a warrior but as a 19-year-old girl whose shoulders had been burdened with much more than anyone should be expected to handle. She knew how broken she felt on the inside but thought Lexa might rival her in that aspect, though Lexa was much better skilled at concealing her weaknesses. Except one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks are presented in _italics_ as per usual.
> 
> Honestly, the meeting with the Sky People was supposed to happen in this chapter, but as you'll see, I got too carried away with the conversation that Clarke and Lexa have the night before. Most likely it's because I just rewatched the end of season 2 with a friend who was watching it for the first time, and I got a little emotional. I'm not even going to say how many chapters are left now because I'll probably get carried away again at some point before it ends. As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Clarke had been in her room sketching for hours. She had retreated there after she and Nyko had closed down the healing tent that evening and just stayed, mulling over the impending visit from her people as charcoal glided across page after page. She paused, taking a break to peer out the window to find the shimmering moon high in the dark night sky.

Clarke sighed and set the piece of charcoal on the table, wiping her hands off on a rag before running her fingers through her hair. The uninterrupted hours of sketching and thinking had still not resulted in a definite decision. It would have been helpful to know who would be arriving in Polis in the morning.

She felt guilty. With the exception of Bellamy, she had simply stridden away from camp without so much as a second glance backward, without informing anyone else. She thought of the grief she had undoubtedly caused her mother and her friends in the four months since she had seen them last. Clarke knew they would be happy to see her alive, of course, but she also wondered if they would also be angry and hurt that she had just deserted them.

_Abby’s face contorted in disappointment, pain, anger, and heartache for her daughter as she heard the truth. She swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking, “You crossed a line. Their blood is on your hands. And even if we win, I’m afraid you won’t be able to wash it off this time.”_

_Clarke felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs as she listened to her mother scoff before turning to head back into the destroyed village, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”_

_A loud ringing sound overwhelmed her ears and mind as she gazed out at the destruction before her, only pierced by the yells of pain and grief from the Tondc villagers who had managed to survive the missile._

Clarke blinked rapidly to clear away the tears that were beginning to form at the memory of her exchange with her mother after Abby had discovered that Clarke allowed the missile to strike Tondc, killing 250 people, in order to protect Bellamy who was still undercover in the Mountain. She also remembered how her mother had taken her into her arms after she had destroyed everyone in the Mountain, how she had pulled her in tight and tried to reassure her by telling her there were no good guys. But that memory paled in comparison to the words Abby had said to her after the missile and to the way Abby looked at her as if she was broken after the Mountain. She wasn’t sure she could handle seeing her mother just yet. She didn’t want to feel like a disappointment.

With a yawn, Clarke crossed the hall to enter Lexa’s room, briefly wondering why she had not seen her since their slightly heated encounter in the healing tent earlier that afternoon. She had not slept in her own room in weeks, both of them having settled into the nightmare-less comfort of sleeping next to one another without addressing it out loud, and it was now quite late.

Pushing the door open, she took in Lexa’s sleeping form on the bed. Clarke’s pillow was caught firmly in her grasp, the only sign of tension in her body. Clarke took the moment to admire the relaxation evident on Lexa’s face and in her posture, her eyes roaming over her strong cheekbones and slightly parted full lips as her chest rose and fell steadily with her breath. It was a rare sight for Clarke, as Lexa was always out of bed before Clarke woke up, and she wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to memorize the way she looked in this peaceful state.

Clarke felt as if she was truly seeing Lexa for the first time, not as the Commander and a warrior but as a 19-year-old girl whose shoulders had been burdened with much more than anyone should be expected to handle. She knew how broken she felt on the inside but thought Lexa might rival her in that aspect, though Lexa was much better skilled at concealing her weaknesses. Except one.

Clarke approached the bed and climbed in, taking as much care as she could to not move around unnecessarily as she didn’t want to interrupt what appeared to be one of the only times Lexa ever truly experienced peace in her troubled soul. She had just carefully laid her head on her pillow next to Lexa’s hand when Lexa spoke without opening her eyes, “You were staring.”

Lexa shifted closer to Clarke and continued, this time opening her eyes to look up at Clarke. “You’ve been doing that a lot today.”

“How do you do that? Your eyes weren’t even open, and your back was to me earlier today,” Clarke said before going silent, her cheeks slowly turning red at the reminder of seeing Lexa’s beautiful back tattoo earlier that day. Even though she knew how light of a sleeper Lexa was, she was still slightly surprised by how observant and stealthy she was.

“I am a trained warrior, Clarke. It is my duty to always be alert and aware of my surroundings,” Lexa replied simply, and Clarke rolled her eyes. Silence engulfed them for a few moments before Lexa pushed herself up into a sitting position, and Clarke mirrored her movements.

“You don’t have to see them tomorrow if you’re not ready, Clarke. They are not aware of your presence here in Polis yet, although I am sure they would not expect to find you here anyway,” Lexa said softly, addressing the issue still very much present in Clarke’s mind. “I can ensure it remains that way if you wish, but you should know that the Chancellor has had your people ask if I know anything of your whereabouts each time they have visited during the past few months.”

“I’m going to have to face them again at some point, and honestly the past few weeks here with you in Polis have made me feel better prepared for that moment,” Clarke said, deciding to address the issue of the Sky People’s seemingly multiple visits to Lexa that had occurred since the breaking of the alliance at another time. “I think I will be able to handle seeing my people again but not my mother. Not yet.”

“I am confident she will not be one of those arriving tomorrow if her previous absences from your people’s visits are any indication. Marcus has been the one to participate in discussions in her place, and I am sure he will be here tomorrow along with a guard detail,” Lexa replied, hoping to assuage Clarke’s reservations.

“I just don’t want them to try to convince me to come back because I know how many of them still look up to me as their leader,” Clarke admitted.

“Then I will make sure that doesn’t happen,” Lexa said, pulling Clarke back down so they could lie together in their usual position, with Lexa’s chin resting at the crook of Clarke’s neck and her arm draped across her waist.

As Clarke thought of her mother, she again was reminded that she knew nothing of Lexa’s parents, and she glanced over at the two dark brown braids lying on the bedside table. “Lexa, would you mind telling me about your parents?” she asked. “You don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that this talk about my mother has me-”

“It’s okay, Clarke,” Lexa interrupted, taking in a breath before continuing. “My mother died giving birth to me, so I was raised by my father and his older sister, my aunt. My father was a warrior until the Mountain Men turned him into a Reaper shortly before the Commander Spirit called me to lead my people four years ago.”

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat, and she began rubbing small circles into Lexa’s back as she continued. “I wrote him off as dead when I realized what had happened, and I mourned him because there was no way for our people to turn Reapers back into men then. But unfortunately the dead sometimes have a way of coming back to haunt the living. My guards and I were attacked by Reapers in the woods a few weeks after I became Commander, and we had to fight our way out.”

Lexa paused, losing herself in the memory momentarily. “He would’ve been unrecognizable to anyone else, but I would always know my father’s eyes. They matched my own. I was forced to kill him because he was too far gone, and we were under attack. It did bring me some solace to know that I had ended his existence as a monster and his suffering so that he could be at peace, though, and return to this world in another life in the future. And then I mourned him a second time.”

Clarke’s eyes flooded with tears as Lexa sighed, her voice unwavering, but Clarke could see the heartbreak in her eyes. “My responsibilities as Commander required my presence here in Polis, so I was unable to maintain contact with my father’s sister. But I had Costia, and I had Anya and Gustus. Then one by one they too were taken from me, and I closed my heart fully after I lost Costia,” Lexa said before pausing once more. “I did not know it at the time, but my father’s sister was in Tondc when the missile struck, and her fight ended.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped in horror at the pain Lexa had endured during her 19 years, and she attempted to tighten her grip around Lexa’s waist, but Lexa pulled herself into a kneeling position over her. Lexa took one of Clarke’s hands in her own and used her free hand to gently wipe away the tears rolling down Clarke’s face. “I had lost everyone close to me, but then you fell out of the sky, and I dared to hope that I could find happiness again with you. The Sky Commander with hair the color of the sun, who was strong and smart and brave and loyal and who ruled with both her mind and her heart. I had every intention of showing you the kind of life Polis could offer during times of peace and waiting, hoping you would one day tell me you were ready, even though I knew I didn’t deserve it and that you also didn’t deserve the fate of becoming yet another casualty from the destruction and death that surround me,” Lexa said softly as Clarke moved to sit up.

Lexa’s eyes were glistening with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. “I had hope until the moment the Mountain Men offered the deal, and I knew that my role as Commander, my duty to protect my people who had been drained and turned into monsters by them for decades upon decades dictated that I take it. I was offered a way to save the hundreds of warriors inside the Mountain with no lives lost, and I knew that I would be condemned by my people for not taking it. And so I did, and as Commander I do not regret the additional pain and suffering I caused my people to avoid.”

Lexa paused to attempt to swallow the lump in her throat before continuing, even as her voice began to crack and the tears slowly began to roll down her face. “But if I had been able to make the decision solely with my heart, I would have chosen you. You deserve better than me, Clarke. I wish I had met you in another life where I did not hold this title or duty to my people so that I could be free to choose you. Where I could be free to let my heart rule my life. Where war did not dominate our existence. Love is weakness in this life because of the way it can cloud decisions I should be able to easily make to protect my people and because it can be so easily used against me by taking those I care about. But I would gladly take the chance to be weak for you in another life where it was possible without all of the destruction and death because you deserve so much more than this, Clarke.”

Clarke felt her heart swelling at the sincere display of emotion by Lexa, whose voice trembled as her eyes became rimmed with red from the tears. She had never thought she would see the strong, stoic Commander display such vulnerability, and her heart was shattering as the mask was pulled off to reveal Lexa’s true feelings. “Lexa, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Life should be about more than survival, and I want to give you that. We _both_ deserve it, and I know you believe in reincarnation, but I don’t. So I don’t want to wait until our paths cross again in another life where we could be free of our leadership to love each other without fear of the other being punished for it,” Clarke croaked, unable to control her voice cracking or the tears coating her cheeks.

She brought her hands up to cup Lexa’s face, her eyes searching Lexa’s. “We’ve both suffered far too much, and if the past few months are any indicator, that suffering will likely never end except in death. I know you feel as if only despair and pain can come to those you allow yourself to get close to, that only destruction follows you. I mean, they call me Wanheda, right?” Clarke said, attempting a small smile through her tears.

Lexa opened her mouth, and Clarke could sense she was about to admonish her use of the nickname, so she continued. “I know and understand your fears that something will happen to me if we are together, but I don’t care. You are one of the few comforts in my life, and you are the only person I feel completely understands me, what I’ve had to do and the decisions I’ve had to make. Neither of us chose the lives we’re leading, and maybe you are content to wait until our souls are reunited in another life where it will be easier, where it will be safer. But if that’s the case, then time is just another mouth to feed. Every hour has been ice in this heat that I feel only with you. Lexa, give your time to me,” Clarke finished.

She barely had time to take a breath before Lexa’s lips were on hers with a new kind of soft intensity. Lexa put all of the passion and gratitude she could into the kiss because she couldn’t trust her voice in the moment. Clarke could feel her shaking, and their faces were both wet with tears as Lexa peppered kisses along her cheek until she reached the side of her temple where she placed a final kiss. Clarke pulled Lexa in as close as possible, hugging her tightly until both of their trembling had stopped.

Together they lied down still in each other’s embrace, their legs tangled together so that they were as fully connected as they could be. They said nothing, content to be in each other’s arms as their tears stopped. As Clarke’s breathing began to even out and her eyes closed in sleep, Lexa whispered, “Ai hod yu in,” before she drifted off as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of Clarke's speech to Lexa was inspired/taken from the lyrics of "Paris" by Geographer.
> 
> _I know I'm leaving,_  
>  but we all leave no matter what.  
> If time is a mouth to feed,  
> every hour is ice in our fingers' heat.  
> So give your time to me.  
> If it changes you, I'll never see.  
> Old lovers fall like leaves,  
> but just if you let them.
> 
> "Ai hod yu in" = "I love you"


	17. Stipulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The doors were opened from outside the war room by the guards in the hall, and Lexa took in the visitors who entered, realizing she recognized all of them, even the ones she had not personally met, from Clarke’s many sketches. She was impressed but not surprised at how well she had managed to depict them on paper solely from months-old memories of their faces._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Flashbacks are presented in _italics_ as per usual.
> 
> Sorry to those I told this chapter would be posted last night. Clearly I'm not going to finish this story before the premiere of "Wanheda: Part One" tomorrow night, but I still plan to wrap it up soon in perhaps four (that's a very rough estimate) more chapters.
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

_He groaned as he stumbled forward at the insistent pushing of one of his captors. The pain in his head from being struck in the temple had still not subsided. He was fairly certain there was dried blood on his face from the injury, but he was unable to check because his hands were tied behind his back, and he had come back to consciousness in the dark thanks to the hood that had been placed on his head._

_He had no idea how long he had been walking, much less any sense of direction or distance. When he had first woken up after being knocked out, he could tell that his captors had moved him while he was unconscious. The only thing he knew about his current whereabouts was that he had been herded inside a building, and that fact alone was enough to send him into a panic._

_He knew he only had two options to avoid torture or worse at this point, and he desperately hoped he could trade information to his captors in exchange for his life because the other option, his last resort, was to take his own life at the very first chance he got. “What a cruel joke to be given the opportunity to return to the ground only to have my entire people destroyed and my life ended violently by savages,” he thought to himself bitterly. Yes, he would certainly much rather end his existence on his own terms rather than at the end of a thousand blades._

_His thoughts were interrupted by a swift kick to the back of his knees, and he gasped in surprise and pain as he was pushed onto his knees by one of his captors. He was about to open his mouth to beg for his life in exchange for information when the hood was suddenly pulled from his head. Overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of light after being kept in the dark for so long, he averted his gaze downward and blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes._

_When he was finally able to keep his eyes open for more than a few fractions of a second at a time, he slowly turned his head upward to finally take in his captor, a thin, tall woman seated on a throne with an excited spark in her eyes. She grinned widely as she greeted him, “Welcome, Maunon.”_

_And despite the throbbing pain still present in his head and the exhaustion and dehydration plaguing his body from being captive for so long, he allowed himself to smirk in return because he knew he would indeed have information that this woman would find valuable enough to do more than just spare his life._

_“Welcome, Maunon,” the woman repeated, the wolfish smile still plastered across her face. “I think we have much to discuss about our common enemy.”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa sat on her throne in the war room, her usual war paint and stoic façade in place as she waited for the impending arrival of the Sky People. She turned her favorite knife over and over in her hands, and she felt the weight of Indra’s gaze from her standing position next to the throne. She looked up when she sensed the other guards in the room closer to the door standing up straighter and was struck by how similar this encounter with the Sky People felt to the first time she had laid eyes on Clarke. Internally she smirked at the memory of Clarke’s brave, snarky rebuttal after she had greeted her as the one who had burned 300 of her warriors alive and how her boldness had intrigued her from their very first meeting.

The doors were opened from outside the war room by the guards in the hall, and Lexa took in the visitors who entered, realizing she recognized all of them, even the ones she had not personally met, from Clarke’s many sketches. She was impressed but not surprised at how well she had managed to depict them on paper solely from months-old memories of their faces.

She watched as Marcus Kane dipped his head and greeted her, and she acknowledged him, “Marcus of the Sky People.” Lexa would not say that she was particularly fond of any of the Sky People, except for Clarke, but she still held the mutual respect and understanding for Marcus that had developed during the time he spent negotiating with her following his capture.

While he looked genuinely pleased and at ease to see her, she found that she could not say the same for his companions as she allowed her eyes to roam over the room. Standing just behind Marcus was the girl she had ordered to be tied to a post and then dug her knife into as a way to begin the slow and painful process of executing her for the crime of attempting to poison her. Lexa felt a small pang of remorse as she took in the stare Raven had fixed her with that she could not quite place, and it was obvious the girl still harbored mixed feelings toward her. Beside her stood a timid young man staring a hole into the floor that she recognized from Clarke’s drawings as Monty, and she could see a visible tremble in his throat as her eyes swept over him.

Standing at the very back of the room closest to the doors were the three guards Marcus had apparently selected to accompany him, and Lexa was surprised because to her knowledge Bellamy, Octavia, and Lincoln had not been members of the Sky guard at the time of Marcus’s last visit. It was easy to assess their feelings toward her, the tension and anger rolling off of them in waves. Bellamy stood with his arms folded across his chest, and Octavia’s jaw clenched as she took in the sight of both Lexa and Indra. Octavia still harbored respect for the Grounders, especially Indra though that was on a subconscious level, and it was the reminder of the way her people had accepted her and made her feel more at home than her own people ever had that quieted Octavia’s outspoken nature.

Lincoln’s body language was much looser and much more neutral, but she still noted the darkness in his eyes and his furrowed brow. She wondered if his presence had caused a stir among the residents of Polis who had seen him enter the city, as he was still very much publicly considered a traitor after he had deserted his clan to help the Sky People fight the Mountain.

“As per the terms of our peace treaty, I have come on behalf of the Chancellor to inform you of our plans to enter the Mountain to gather supplies to be used by our people,” Marcus began, and Lexa appreciated that he had never been one to mince words during their discussions. “Our primary objective is to further investigate the equipment and supplies in the medical ward and take anything our doctors think might be useful in replenishing our stores. We will also be looking for things like scrap metal, blankets, and clothing that we can use to improve, repair, and insulate our building structures and better prepare for the coming winter.”

Lexa was not surprised by the request Marcus made, and she did not speak when he paused because she had no objections to what he had proposed. The Sky People, or more accurately, Clarke, had brought the Mountain to its knees, and she saw no problem with them claiming the spoils of war that were rightfully theirs so long as they toed the line of the truce and did not remove any weaponry from the Mountain. Besides, she knew that the Sky People would need those supplies to improve their camp before the weather turned cold more than her own, and the clans’ healers had no use for the Mountain Men’s medical supplies.

Marcus continued when Lexa quirked her eyebrow in the direction of Raven and Monty rather than speaking out loud. “And as a show of good faith, Commander, we have brought two of our best with technology and engineering, Raven and Monty, to set up a dozen radios for you and your guards to use for easier, more efficient communication,” he explained.

“Very well, Marcus. I find your plans agreeable so long as you speak true of your intentions for entering the Mountain,” Lexa said, and one glance at Indra was all she needed to do to communicate the order to have a guard rotation placed near the Mountain to ensure the Sky People stayed true to their word. “I have arranged to have the servants prepare a light meal for you and your attendants to take in the dining hall before you depart after we have visited the training field to discuss the implementation of the radios with my generals.”

“We appreciate that, Commander, thank you. And as I am sure you remember from my previous visits, the Chancellor wishes to inquire whether you or any of your people have heard anything about Clarke’s whereabouts,” Marcus said, with genuine concern in his eyes though she could also sense that he felt uncomfortable at having to repeat the request once again.

Mentioning the training grounds had reminded Lexa of the knife she held in her hands, and she nodded once at Penn and Ryder standing near the door, who acknowledged the gesture and slipped out of the room wordlessly, leaving only Lexa, Indra, and the Sky People in the war room. She looked at Marcus for a moment before turning her gaze back to the knife in her hand, and rather than answering his inquiry, she called out, “Lincoln.”

His expression faltered momentarily in surprise and confusion at being addressed by his former Commander, but he quickly regained his composure as Octavia gritted her teeth next to him. “Sha, Heda?” he answered as he stepped forward, falling back into old habit.

“I would like to thank you because I suppose you are in part responsible for my best knife being returned to me after months of separation,” she said as she pushed the tip of the knife into the arm of her throne and looked up. Indra’s jaw dropped slightly in surprise at the Commander’s admission, and she internally rolled her eyes, knowing this would lead to the revelation that Lexa had been the one to order Lincoln’s release. She mentally chided the Commander for being a branwada but knew it was likely safe for her to reveal the truth when only in the presence of the Sky People and herself. The Sky People likely would not think twice about the significance of the Commander allowing one of her own to desert her people, and she was glad Lexa had ordered Penn and Ryder from the room before she spoke.

“Your knife?” Lincoln questioned, confusion evident on his face until he was close enough to notice the knife in detail, and suddenly everything clicked into place. “You have seen Clarke?”

The other Sky People’s confusion only grew at Lincoln’s revelation. Lexa nodded once before answering, “Sha,” and even Monty’s eyes left the floor to look at her. She noticed the way Bellamy slightly softened the hard glare he had fixed her with.

The questions started to flood out of their mouths before Lexa could continue, and she simply held up her hand to call for silence, effectively bringing the outbursts to a halt. “She was brought to me, bloody, broken, and barely conscious after being attacked by a radiated bear outside the gates of Polis a month ago, and she spent a week recovering here,” Lexa said, and she saw both Raven’s and Monty’s jaws drop slightly in shock.

“Why didn’t you send a rider to Camp Jaha to inform us? Who knows where she could’ve gone off to since then?” Bellamy interrupted with an edge to his voice.

Lexa was annoyed at his behavior but thought it best not to act upon it. “I did not send a rider to your camp because she did not wish me to, and she has not gone anywhere since she healed,” Lexa answered with a strain of frustration in her voice.

Bellamy opened his mouth again, either in shock or to speak out again, she didn’t know. “Do not interrupt me again,” she clicked out, fixing him with a brief but intense glare before sweeping her eyes over their faces as she continued. “Clarke has been working as a healer in Polis since she recovered from the attack. The two warriors who exited the room a few minutes ago have gone to retrieve her from the healing tent, but I must make a few things abundantly clear before she arrives. You are not to bombard her with pleas to return with you to your camp.”

Lexa noticed how several pairs of eyes in the room narrowed in a mixture of confusion and distrust, and she turned to specifically address Marcus before she continued. “You may inform the Chancellor and your other people back at camp of her safety and presence here in Polis, but further visitors from your camp will not be accepted after today. That includes the Chancellor,” Lexa said, and Marcus looked rather pained, while Bellamy and Octavia looked furious.

“Not even her own mother?” Marcus asked incredulously. “Surely you will allow an exception, Commander,” and Lexa’s suspicions that they assumed the conditions she had laid out were her own were confirmed.

“It is not up to me to decide which visitors Clarke decides to accept or when, Marcus,” Lexa replied. “These stipulations are a product of her making, not my own. I am only acting as a messenger to pass them along and ensure that your people abide.”

Lexa did not miss the way Bellamy’s face took on a renewed look of anger and frustration, while both Lincoln and Raven seemed to be calmly considering the information she had just revealed.

“So these are her rules, not yours?” Bellamy questioned, the anger and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That is what I said, Bellamy of the Sky People,” Lexa replied coolly. “Clarke has her reasons, and I advise you that I think it would not be wise to question them. She is a strong leader, and to lead well you must make hard choices. She has had to make those hard choices, but because she is also a compassionate leader, she has not taken the consequences of those choices easily in stride. Do not assume that it is easy for her to simply come into this reunion with open arms when it could just as easily remind her of the leadership role and tough decisions that were placed upon her shoulders without her asking as it could bring her happiness,” Lexa finished calmly and strongly in her typical Commander demeanor.

Bellamy’s outrage spilled over at the Commander’s response. “She’s had to make hard choices?” he all but yelled, his rough voice filling the room so loudly that no one except Lexa noticed the door opening at the back of the room. He scoffed, “I assume you’re referring to the _genocide_ that _we_ were forced to commit _together_ in the Mountain because you broke the alliance to save your people. Don’t you dare talk to me about the _‘hard choices,’_ ” he said, forming quotation marks in the air with his fingers, “that she’s had to make and pretend like your hand didn’t force hers to pull that lever and irradiate level 5. You have no honor,” he spat out.

Lexa knew the accusations Bellamy had levelled at her were in part true, and she would always regret the harm she had caused Clarke mentally and emotionally more than any other decision in her life, but she was also the Commander of the Twelve Clans, and she did not owe this Sky Person an apology or an explanation.

Not that she would have had time to respond to Bellamy before Lincoln quietly spoke up. “Yes, Bellamy, what Heda did at the Mountain was dishonorable, but she has proved her worth as Commander of the Twelve Clans over and over again,” he said. “If the rumors we have heard are correct, then Heda faced those who challenged her position on the throne after the Mountain and won those battles. She was able to end decades and decades of the suffering of our people at the hands of the Maunon that you could not even begin to understand, and without a single drop of blood shed by her warriors.”

Bellamy fixed him with a glare dark but visibly calmer than the rage that had burned through him earlier as he continued, turning to face Lexa, “It is clear to me now that you did not make that choice lightly, Heda. I thank you for allowing me the chance to return to fight with the Sky People and be with Octavia when you gave Indra the knife that set me free,” Lincoln said, verbally putting the pieces of the puzzle surrounding the knife and Lincoln’s escape together for everyone. Octavia’s eyes widened in surprise as she glanced once more at the knife Lexa held in her hand.

“Do you think Clarke would be here if she honestly still blamed the Commander for what happened in the Mountain, Bellamy? Her presence here in Polis obviously shows that she still trusts the Commander, and I think you should as well,” Lincoln finished quietly after he had returned his gaze to Bellamy.

“Trust her? When she forced us to kill more than 300 people?” Bellamy spat out again, clearly about to launch into another tirade.

“Oh please,” Raven scoffed with a roll of her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest in a clear show that she was beyond done with the present conversation. “I forget, Bellamy, who was it that took the radio from my pod and destroyed it while I was still unconscious, without checking to see if I was okay, I might add, just to save his own skin? If I remember correctly, that was you, and your actions caused 300 of our own people, not 300 people who had been torturing ours, on the Ark to die.”

Bellamy’s jaw dropped in surprise at Raven’s calculated response, and even Lexa’s eyes widened in surprise. She had certainly never expected the girl who had loved the boy she had ordered to die, the same girl she had tied to a post and cut because the situation seemed to indicate that she had tried to poison her, would ever defend her actions.

“Honestly who wouldn’t have made the same choice as the Commander? She’s offered a way to save hundreds of her people and end decades of violence and suffering without losing a single life? The original plan had already failed when she was offered the deal anyway,” Raven said, exasperated by how the others seemed to fail to see the careful logic in Lexa’s decision to break the alliance. “It’s like you all have memory problems or something. The Mountain Men had already removed all of the Grounder prisoners from the harvest chamber, so the whole ‘sneak them out the back door while they’re focused on the army out front’ plan had no chance of working. If the Commander had refused that deal, they would’ve just killed all of her people, and all of our people who were prisoners plus everyone else the Mountain Men captured had all already been locked up on Level 5.”

“Who wouldn’t take that deal if they were in the same position?” Raven asked, looking straight at Bellamy. “Hell, even I would, and I was chained up on the fifth level about to be drilled into at the time. In that moment, the only ones who seemed capable of being saved were the Grounders, who would be killed for absolutely no reason because their bone marrow wasn’t needed. Do you honestly think Cage Wallace would’ve let them live if she’d refused the deal? Yeah, it was a shitty move, but why would she risk the hundreds of lives of her people just for an alliance she didn’t actually need and had made with someone she’d known for less than two weeks?”

Raven turned to face Lexa and continued, “You may be heartless, but at least you’re logical.” Lexa almost smirked at the comment that so closely matched an exact sentiment that Clarke had once expressed to her, and she decided then and there in that moment that she very much liked Raven of the Sky People.

“So cut the bullshit, Bellamy. You’re not pissed at the Commander. You’re pissed at Clarke for leaving,” Raven said with finality, and silence quickly and thickly filled the room for several moments as the truth of Raven’s words sunk into Bellamy. Lexa looked past the Sky People to the shadowy recess of the room to try to gauge the reaction of the person she knew had entered through the door during Bellamy’s initial outburst.

“Well, I’m glad that’s all out in the open now,” Clarke said, finally stepping forward after having witnessed the heated exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing some of the Sky People into this story, and I tried to stay true to how I feel they would react to being told not only that Clarke had been in Polis for a month without telling them but also that she is refusing to come back with them - Lincoln still feeling that Lexa's actions were dishonorable but trusting Clarke's judgement, Octavia still being extremely pissed at both Lexa and Clarke but muting herself out of respect, Bellamy being hurt by Clarke's decision to leave and placing his blame falsely upon Lexa much in the same way Clarke did, Marcus trying to be very diplomatic out of his respect for the visionary Commander, Raven understandably angry at the grief and pain she's suffered related to Lexa but also still highly logical and understanding, and Monty slightly terrified of Lexa but more importantly concerned for and understanding of Clarke.
> 
> The next chapter will continue this conversation, as there is still much more to exploration to be done into these characters' feelings about Lexa's bombshell revelation that Clarke is not only alive but here in Polis and has been for weeks.


	18. You Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Clarke could see the heartache hidden in his eyes as he continued, “We’ve spent months searching for you, not even knowing whether or not you were still alive. We’ve been so worried about you, and now we find out that you’ve just been here in Polis for over a month. You deserted us. You deserted me,” he said exasperatedly, looking directly into Clarke’s eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

“Well, I’m glad that’s all out in the open now,” Clarke said, finally stepping forward after having witnessed the heated exchange.

Each of the Sky People’s heads snapped up toward the back of the room in surprise. Lexa remained seated on her throne, as outwardly stoic as ever but concerned about this reunion on the inside. Next to her Indra internally rolled her eyes once more while thinking she should not have been surprised by this exchange, knowing both the Commander’s and Clarke’s flair for the dramatic after witnessing their first encounter in the war tent months ago.

“Clarke!” both Raven and Monty yelled out in surprise before rushing forward to engulf her in a hug. Both Bellamy and Octavia remained motionless, still in shock at not only the fact that Clarke was alive and well in Polis and had been for a month but also at the subtle differences in Clarke’s appearance since they had last seen her. She was visibly thinner, her arms seemed more toned, and there were a few small braids running through her hair. She even seemed to hold herself up in a different manner than she had the last time they had seen her after the fall of the Mountain.

Kane stepped forward once Raven and Monty had released Clarke to shake her hand, and Clarke wondered if she was imagining the tears she thought she saw forming in his eyes. “I am glad to see you are well, Clarke,” he said with a genuine smile plastered to his face underneath the impressive beard he had grown since the Mountain.

Lincoln caught her eye then and nodded his head once with a small smile on his face, and Clarke grinned as she extended her hand to clasp his arm in hers, much the same way she had once done with Anya. “Mochof, Lincoln. I do not think, no, I know I could not have survived all that time in the woods alone without your help in the beginning,” Clarke said, and if the looks on Bellamy’s and Octavia’s faces were anything to judge by, she knew Lincoln had kept true to his word and not told anyone about finding her in the woods just a few days after she had left Camp Jaha.

Before either of them could get a chance to question Lincoln further, Clarke turned to Bellamy and spoke, “We both know what Raven said is true. You’re angry with me, not the Commander. She did nothing more than make the only choice that would result in the safety of her people. And it seems as if our people have found a way to make peace again in the time that I’ve been gone anyway, so being angry with the Commander seems rather counterproductive.” Clarke turned her eyes briefly to Kane, who nodded in response to her statement.

“No path of action was guaranteed in that mountain until Cage Wallace refused to let our people go, and we both know that once you saw Octavia was in danger on Level 5 that your mind was made up,” Clarke said softly, her eyes once more on Bellamy. “You would pull that lever over and over again to save her. What we did was horrible, but that isn’t the real cause of your anger.”

Bellamy dipped his head as Clarke’s words hit him, and he paused to consider them for a few moments. “You left,” he almost whispered, finally lifting his head to meet Clarke’s eyes, and she saw a mixture of anger and grief written there. “We pulled that lever together, and then you just left. We’ve been the leaders of our group since we landed on the ground, sharing the responsibilities and decisions necessary to keep our people alive. Together. And then you just left.”

Clarke could see the heartache hidden in his eyes as he continued, “We’ve spent months searching for you, not even knowing whether or not you were still alive. We’ve been so worried about you, and now we find out that you’ve just been here in Polis for over a month. You deserted us. You deserted _me_ ,” he said exasperatedly, looking directly into Clarke’s eyes.

“I am sorry that I’ve caused everyone so much grief, Bellamy, truly I am. But while I agree that we shared the leadership role over our people, we did it for different reasons. When we landed here, you were eager to assume the position of being in charge, and that’s okay. But I never asked for this. I never asked for the weight of 300 Grounders’ lives on my shoulders or thinking I had killed you and Finn and so many others of our people to save everyone else. I never asked to see 250 lives taken in Tondc because of a missile. I never asked to plunge a knife into Finn’s heart to save him from a much more excruciating death because he murdered 18 innocent people trying to find me. I never asked to be faced with the decision to pull a lever and take over 300 lives, some innocent, just to save our people,” Clarke said, tears brimming in her eyes.

“There has been so much death connected to me. My father, Wells, Atom, Charlotte, 300 Grounders, Anya, 18 innocent villagers, Finn, Gustus, 250 more Grounders, the sniper, Major Byrne, Dante Wallace, Maya, the Mountain Men. There is so much blood on my hands I fear I will never be able to wash it off,” Clarke said, echoing the words her mother had once said to her. “I left because I could not bear the weight of all of those lives on my shoulders. I’m glad our people don’t share the Grounders’ tradition of getting kill marks because my back would not be big enough to hold all of the lives for which I feel responsible,” she said, and Bellamy’s eyes softened at the admission of her pain.

“But I will bear that weight so no one else has to. Staying in Camp Jaha would not only mean being reminded daily, constantly, of the decisions I’ve made and the lives I’ve taken, but it would also remind our people of the things we’ve had to do, like wiping out an entire civilization, to survive,” Clarke said. “You had Octavia after everything that happened in the Mountain. She’s been your responsibility your whole life. I’m not saying she made it super easy for you to cope and justify what we did to save our people, but while you have Octavia, I can’t even look my mother in the face because I don’t want to be reminded of what I’ve done, how disappointed she is in me. Or even anyone else because they all know what I had to do. I couldn’t handle seeing the looks on their faces every day.”

“Clarke, I told you before you left Camp Jaha that if you needed forgiveness, you were forgiven. Your mother isn’t disappointed in you. She knows firsthand now the sacrifices that must be made in order to survive. She’s only worried about you and wants to see you’re safe, just like we all are,” Bellamy pleaded.

“And you can tell her that I am safe when you return later today. I’ve done a lot of healing during my time in the woods and here in Polis, but I’m not sure that I’m fully there, at least not enough to face everyone again. Staying here in Polis has lifted the weight of responsibility off my shoulders. I can finally breathe again here. I’ll return at least for a visit at some point, but I’m not ready for that. Not yet,” Clarke finished, and Bellamy nodded his understanding before pulling Clarke into a tight hug.

Lexa’s eyes had widened slightly at Clarke’s final statement, but she quickly regained her composure when Bellamy turned to face her upon releasing Clarke. “Commander, I hope I have not offended you with my outburst or damaged relations between our people,” he said seriously and authentically.

Lexa’s eyes were still cold as she nodded once, but they visibly softened as Clarke spoke, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it this time, Bellamy.” Clarke turned to face Lexa before she continued, “I’m sure the Commander’s position has caused her to deal with her fair share of people misplacing their blame on her.”

Lexa returned Clarke’s deep stare, holding her eyes for a few moments as she gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head, and Raven quirked an eyebrow in confusion and interest, looking from Clarke to Lexa.

“Now, if everyone has finished airing their grievances, let us make our way to the training field so that the radios may be discussed with the generals,” Lexa said as she stood up from her throne and made her way across the room to exit, briefly sharing a look with Clarke as she passed by her. Indra, Lincoln, Kane, and Bellamy immediately made to follow her.

Clarke turned to Octavia, who looked at her with confliction in her eyes. Octavia opened her mouth as if to speak but seemed to think better of it, as she closed her mouth and followed the others from the room.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come around. They all will,” Monty said, reaching out to rest his hand on Clarke’s arm briefly before he, Raven, and Clarke exited the war room as well.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke stood next to Raven and Monty on top of the hill overlooking the training field, where Lexa had gathered her generals, along with Indra and the rest of the Sky People. She could see Kane and Bellamy explaining the principles of radio communication to the group, and she could sense some slight distrust emanating from a few of the generals but took their attentiveness as a good sign.

“Monty, we all know that Bellamy and I weren’t the only ones in that control room in the Mountain,” Clarke began, turning to face Monty who was fiddling with the settings on the last radio. “How are you holding up?”

“We did what we had to do, Clarke. You gave Cage multiple opportunities to stop drilling into our people, and he never took them. They would’ve never stopped, and we both know that,” Monty said, his eyes still on the radio he was working on.

“And those who don’t realize that eventually will, given time,” he said, looking up at Clarke, not mentioning Jasper by name because they both knew who he was referring to.

Clarke nodded, thankful Monty had answered the question she hadn’t wanted to ask. He made one last adjustment to the radio before he stood up fully and announced, “Well, this is the last one. I better go take it down there.”

Clarke remained in place, not seeing a reason for her to trudge down the hill and cause Raven unnecessary strain to her leg, which she noted still sported a brace.

Raven waited until Monty was well out of earshot before she asked abruptly, “So how long have you been fucking the Commander?”

Clarke felt her face immediately turn red and her eyes go wide at Raven’s question. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, having trouble finding her voice. She finally managed to stutter out, “W-what?” and she hoped it was convincing.

It wasn’t. Raven rolled her eyes and turned to face Clarke, who had her eyes pointedly fixed below on the training field. “Oh please. Don’t insult my intelligence, Clarke,” she said before chuckling to herself. “Or maybe I should call you ‘Clerk’ with the way you’ve been checking the Commander out this entire time we’ve been standing up here.”

Clarke ripped her eyes away from Lexa on the training field to meet Raven’s knowing stare. “It’s a good thing eye-fucking can’t get you pregnant, or I think you would’ve conceived her child back in the war room,” Raven continued, and Clarke’s jaw dropped in response to Raven’s boldness.

“But seriously,” Raven said, no longer joking, “how long?”

Clarke took in a deep breath, realizing that Raven wasn’t going to let this go and afraid of her response given the tumultuous history Raven and Lexa shared. She wasn’t sure if she could handle another one of her friends being mad at her, especially Raven.

“She kissed me,” Clarke said quietly, “in her tent right before you and Wick sent the signal to let us know the acid fog had been disabled.” Clarke noticed Raven visibly stiffen at the mention of Wick’s name but chose not to comment on it.

“And it felt so right, but I told her that I wasn’t ready, at least not yet,” Clarke continued. “She understood. She was so patient. Standing outside the door of the Mountain, I had no doubts that she was willing to wait for me, no matter how long it took. She even invited me to come here with her to Polis after the war, and I’m here now, though I’m sure neither of us expected it to be under these circumstances,” Clarke said, with a small emotionless laugh, still worrying about Raven’s response.

“But you’re ready now,” Raven said, and it wasn’t a question.

Clarke looked into Raven’s eyes, trying to gauge the feelings her face just wasn’t giving away before she nodded, just once.

“Well, she better not screw it up then, now that you’ve finally got a chance at real happiness,” Raven responded after a beat, and Clarke released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “If she does, she’ll have me to answer to,” Raven said with a smile, and both of them laughed before Raven pulled Clarke into a hug.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa stood to the side away from the others on the training field as she watched her generals receive instructions on the use of the radios from Kane, Bellamy, and Monty. She felt a presence sidle up to her and knew who it was without having to turn to look.

“Lincoln,” she greeted formally, and he returned the favor simply. “Heda.”

“The rumors of challenges are true. There were many who expressed your same sentiments of my dishonor after the Mountain, most of them Azgeda, but as you guessed, I faced them all and won. That is, unless there is one more challenger I must face,” she said pointedly, still observing her generals.

“I no longer find your actions dishonorable, Heda,” Lincoln said, his gaze trained on Octavia. “I understand the sacrifice you made. You had no other choice to save our people. And above all I thank you for allowing me the chance to be with the one I love.”

Lexa turned to follow the path of Lincoln’s gaze, seeing the adoration written on his face as he watched Octavia. And she wished for the millionth time that she was not Heda so that she too could make the same decision and choose the one she loved over her people. “Maybe in another life,” she thought to herself.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia sat at the far end of the table away from Clarke with Lincoln. She watched the easy smiles grace the faces of everyone else and wondered how it was so easy for everyone else to forgive Clarke. She was still angry over Clarke’s and Lexa’s decision to allow the missile to strike Tondc, even though she knew it was the only way to keep Bellamy alive and safe inside the Mountain until he had finished his job. And then she had just left Bellamy and the others without so much as a goodbye. She had seen the pain it had caused Bellamy, and though he may have been able to find it within himself to forgive her, she knew she couldn’t say the same for herself, at least not yet.

Octavia was so deep in thought that she hardly noticed when Lincoln stood from the table to refill his goblet and was replaced by another.

“She saved your life, you know,” Indra said to her former Second, and Octavia’s eyes snapped to hers in confusion.

“The Commander heard you tell Clarke that you knew about the missile, and I am sure that without Clarke’s intervention, your life would have been taken in order to protect the alliance and prevent our people from devolving into civil war if that information had been spread,” Indra said coolly before standing and leaving the table as quickly as she had appeared.

Octavia considered her words and knew they must be true. She knew that Lexa had overheard her conversation with Clarke and had honestly been surprised when there had been no repercussions. She turned to glance at Lexa, who had just entered the tent, and thought of her ruthlessness in addition to Clarke’s lack of foresight, evidenced by her backup plan of getting into the Mountain after Lexa’s betrayal consisting solely of banging on the door. Perhaps those two balancing each other out would be the key to lasting peace between their people. If they could work together despite having such different leadership styles, there was hope for everyone else. Octavia thought of Clarke’s speech to Bellamy earlier that day and knew she was hurting, that she had never asked for the weight of responsibility to be placed on her shoulders.

Clarke felt Octavia’s eyes on her then and turned to meet her gaze. Octavia swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded just once, trying to convey the beginnings of forgiveness she could not yet bring herself to voice. Clarke considered Octavia for a moment before returning the nod thoughtfully in understanding and turning back to join the conversation with the others.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa was caught up in observing the carefree way in which Clarke finally seemed to be interacting with the Sky People, so she didn’t notice Raven sidle up to her until she spoke. “Commander, may I speak candidly?”

Lexa turned to face Raven, a quirked eyebrow being the only sign of her amusement at the Sky Girl’s request to speak candidly when she had never known her to ask for permission first. She still felt remorseful for the pain she had caused Raven, both in ordering Finn to die and in placing the first cut after it seemed she had attempted to poison her, and she felt that granting her request was the least she could do in return.

Seeing Lexa nod, Raven spoke her mind, “Don’t fuck this up, whatever it is you’ve got with Clarke. I don’t think she can handle the pain of losing someone she cares for again.”

Lexa’s eyes widened in surprise, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Raven cut her off. “Let’s skip the denial, Commander. I’m sure you would be much better at it than Clarke was, but I’m not stupid. If I can reason through your decision to break the alliance, I’m sure I have the wits about me to see the obvious feelings you have for Clarke.”

“Obvious,” was Lexa’s only reply, and Raven actually laughed.

“Have you seen the way you look at her?” she asked before laughing once more. “I’m serious, though, Lexa,” she said, and Lexa quirked her eyebrow again in surprise at Raven’s boldness with addressing her by her given name rather than her title. “Clarke is one of the closest people I have to family, and I won’t stand to see her suffer anymore.”

Lexa maintained her stoic façade but internally was simultaneously amused by Raven’s speech and grateful to her for being so willing to stand up for Clarke. She nodded once and said, “Of course, Raven of the Sky People. You have my word.”

Lexa turned to see the others standing from their places at the table, clearly having finished their meal. She watched as Bellamy and Monty hugged Clarke. Marcus Kane approached her and extended his hand as he stated, “We thank you for the meal, Commander, and for your acceptance of our proposal to make a supply run into the Mountain. I hope you and your generals will find the radios we brought useful.”

She accepted his handshake, and he continued, “May we meet again,” before leading the Sky People from the room to make their return trip to Camp Jaha.

Lexa caught Indra’s eye and nodded once, signifying the previously discussed order to set up a rotation of scouts to monitor the Sky People’s movements within the Mountain. Though she mostly believed Kane’s words about their intentions, she would not be a good leader of her people if she did not ensure he spoke true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, originally this chapter and the next were all supposed to be one chapter, but I decided to split it up for a couple of reasons, the first being that a combined chapter would be around 6,000 words, which is way longer than any of the other chapters. And the other reason being that the next chapter should probably be rated E, so I wanted to give people a chance to just skip over it if that's not their kind of thing.


	19. Open Your Eyes, Clarke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Clarke paused and looked deeply into Lexa’s eyes before she continued, her hands still on either side of Lexa’s face. “Raven talked to me today, about us, and after doing some thinking, I realize that I’m ready,” Clarke said, and there was no way she could have missed the hopeful glean that appeared in Lexa’s eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to _The 100_ showrunners. I own nothing.
> 
> Fair warning about this chapter - it's pretty much just smut, so feel free to skip over it if that's not your kind of thing. Originally this chapter and the one before it were supposed to be one big chapter, but I separated them due to length and out of wanting to give people who don't want to read anything explicit the opportunity to just skip it.
> 
> As always you can find me at lexaisweakforclarke.tumblr.com.

Clarke was admiring the impressive book collection in Lexa’s room later that evening when Lexa finally returned from overseeing the army’s training session. The Sky People’s visit had put the warriors behind schedule, and she had ordered them to stay later than usual to make up for the lost time. Normally Clarke would’ve met Lexa in the courtyard outside her house to continue her combat training, but she had other plans in mind for the evening and knew that Lexa would be tired from the extended training session, not to mention her own fatigue from the events of the day.

Clarke turned around to find Lexa still in her armor and war paint with her hands behind her back, clearly holding something out of her sight. She arched an eyebrow in question, and Lexa brought her hand forward to reveal a small bouquet of tiny yellow flowers.

“I brought these for you. I know today was not easy,” she said simply, and Clarke felt her heart swell at the sweet gesture.

She couldn’t prevent the huge smile from forming on her face and felt it grow even wider, if that was possible, once she saw how Lexa visibly softened at her response. She stepped forward and took the flowers in her hand before placing them into the water carafe that Lexa kept on the table.

Clarke turned to see that Lexa had already removed her boots and was working on her armor and moved to stop her. “Let me,” she said, replacing Lexa’s hands with her own as she undid the clasps on her jacket and unbuckled her shoulder guard, placing them carefully to the side along with her sword sheaths.

She grabbed the cloth off the table and dipped it into the wash basin before advancing upon Lexa once more. Lexa allowed herself to be walked backward to the bed and sat down wordlessly.

Lexa’s eyes fluttered closed as Clarke brought the wet cloth to her face and began to gently wipe away her war paint. They stayed quiet as Clarke continued her ministrations, Lexa reveling in her gentle caresses on her face.

Once Clarke was done, she sat the cloth on the bedside table and took Lexa’s face gently in her hands before leaning forward to place a kiss on her lips.

“Mochof, Clarke,” Lexa said quietly as she opened her eyes after Clarke had retreated some.

“No, thank you, Lexa,” Clarke responded, and Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed in response. “For giving me the opportunity to heal and find myself again. And for caring about me and being so willing to wait.”

Clarke paused and looked deeply into Lexa’s eyes before she continued, her hands still on either side of Lexa’s face. “Raven talked to me today, about us, and after doing some thinking, I realize that I’m ready,” Clarke said, and there was no way she could have missed the hopeful glean that appeared in Lexa’s eyes.

“It seems Raven has covered all of her bases today, then,” Lexa said with a small chuckle before becoming serious once more. “Are you sure, Clarke?” she asked, wanting to give Clarke a chance to change her mind.

Clarke nodded as she stroked Lexa’s cheek with her thumb. “Sha, Heda,” she said, and Lexa’s eyes visibly darkened. “I am ready to be with you fully. You’ve shown me that I can be happy again, and I don’t want to waste a chance for us to be happy together, knowing how brief and violent life on the ground can be.”

“Life is brief, and no one else can ever really know the real you, no one but themselves that is,” Clarke said, as Lexa snaked her hands around her waist to pull her closer. “Except that’s not true for us. I thought it was true that I was the only person who could ever truly understand my thoughts and feelings, but I’ve come to realize that you know me just as well as I do. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to find this same level of understanding that I have with you with anyone else.”

Lexa surged forward to capture Clarke’s lips with her own in response, trying to convey all of her feelings for Clarke in her gentle, passionate kiss. But Clarke quickly acted to deepen the kiss, swiping her tongue along Lexa’s bottom lip before gently biting. When Lexa opened her mouth in surprise to release a low groan in response, Clarke entered with her tongue, igniting a fire in them both, and she could feel a moan vibrating within Lexa’s chest.

Lexa kept her hands on Clarke’s waist, allowing Clarke to control the situation until she felt Clarke’s hands dip underneath her shirt, and she responded in kind. Clarke raked her fingers up and down Lexa’s ribs, producing a chill along Lexa’s spine and a warm feeling within her own abdomen.

She continued to kiss Lexa passionately, both of them losing themselves in the kiss for a few moments before she broke it off and pulled back slightly. She took in Lexa’s slightly disheveled appearance, her lips swollen from the numerous bites and her chest heaving.

“Do you trust me?” she asked Lexa as she gazed into her bright eyes, and the look in her eyes rendered Lexa’s responding nod completely unnecessary.

Clarke hooked her hands into Lexa’s tunic and pulled it off quickly, her own shirt following immediately. Lexa barely had time to allow her eyes to roam over Clarke’s newly revealed skin before Clarke’s mouth was on hers once more, this time with renewed urgency. She felt Clarke’s fingers skim across her toned stomach, and she moved her hands upward to skim her fingers along the underside of Clarke’s breasts underneath the chest binding she had long ago begun to wear, trading in her well-worn bra.

Clarke’s breath hitched in her throat, and she moaned into Lexa’s mouth before moving to kiss down Lexa’s neck. She was relentless in the way she continued to rake her hands up and down Lexa’s ribs, skimming all the way down to the top of her hipbone before retreating up to the beginnings of Lexa’s chest binding. As she continued to suck on Lexa’s neck, she felt her own chest binding begin to loosen under Lexa’s nimble fingers.

She felt the heat growing within her as the binding fell away from her chest. She had just worked her way down to suck on Lexa’s collarbone when she felt Lexa’s hands on her nipples, and she couldn’t stop herself from biting into the crook of Lexa’s neck.

Lexa let out a loud moan in response, momentarily causing her to stop rolling and pinching Clarke’s nipples between her fingers, and Clarke thought it was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. Clarke took advantage of Lexa’s momentarily distracted state to pull her chest bindings from her body, gasping in surprise when she saw the glint of metal running through Lexa’s nipples.

Lexa opened her eyes to find Clarke’s pupils blown wide, her eyes fixated on her nipples. “Your nipples are pierced,” she breathed out hungrily, and Lexa smirked in response until Clarke’s mouth latched on to her right nipple, causing her to moan out Clarke’s name.

The sound sent another wave of heat directly to Clarke’s core, and she knew she couldn’t wait much longer to have Lexa bare underneath her. She needed to feel the stoic Commander come undone. She alternated between sucking on Lexa’s nipple and flicking her tongue rapidly across it, enjoying the contrasting sensations of Lexa’s warm body heat with the cool metal. She pinched Lexa’s other nipple harshly between her fingers, and Lexa’s hands fell limp from Clarke’s breasts at the sensation, releasing a string of moans as her head fell back from the pleasure and pain of Clarke’s ministrations.

Clarke released Lexa’s nipple from her mouth with a satisfying pop and trailed her hand down to the waistband of Lexa’s pants, wordlessly gazing up at Lexa for permission. Lexa nodded in earnest, too out of breath to form words, and her pants were unbuttoned almost immediately. She placed her hands back on the bed and lifted her hips to help Clarke remove her pants, too overcome with desire to do much else.

Clarke kneeled as she finally pulled Lexa’s pants and underwear completely away from her ankles and looked up at the sight before her. Lexa’s bare chest was heaving with excitement, her legs spread wide to make room for Clarke kneeling between them. Clarke felt her pulse thundering in her throat as she took in the glistening sign of Lexa’s arousal painted onto her thighs, releasing a low moan of her own before she began to kiss and suck her way up Lexa’s legs.

Lexa’s breath grew more erratic as Clarke neared the apex of her thighs, and she snarled something in Trigedasleng when Clarke bit down forcefully on her inner thigh, so close to where she needed her to be. She felt Clarke’s smooth tongue soothing the skin she had just bit for only a brief moment before it was gone, and she opened her eyes to see Clarke standing before her, in the process of removing her own pants and underwear.

“Move back on the bed and turn over on your knees,” Clarke commanded, and Lexa obeyed without a moment’s hesitation.

Clarke audibly groaned at the sight of Lexa’s tattoo-covered back as she made to follow Lexa up onto the bed. She began to hungrily kiss her way down Lexa’s spine as she trailed her fingers upward slowly from the back of Lexa’s thighs. Clarke moved to bite into the side of Lexa’s hip at the same time as she ran her fingers through Lexa’s glistening folds, and she felt a renewed wetness of her own at the sound of Lexa moaning her name in response.

“You’re so wet, Lexa,” Clarke said in an almost worshipping tone, her voice thick with desire, as she swirled her fingers around Lexa’s clit.

The sensation caused Lexa to lose a little bit of control in her arms, her back arching as her hands slipped forward on the bed until she was holding herself up by her forearms. The new position caused her nipples to rub against the furs on the bed, and she began to rock her hips back and forth as two of Clarke’s fingers dipped lower to slip into her fully.

Clarke groaned at the sensation of feeling Lexa’s walls clenching around her fingers, and she began to pump in and out, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed to match the thrusts of Lexa’s hips. There was no end to Lexa’s moaning now, and Clarke thought she might cum just from the sound alone.

As Lexa’s breaths came in shorter and shorter gasps, she changed the angle of her hand so that she was rubbing up against the top of Lexa’s walls with her fingers and moved her thumb to add pressure to Lexa’s clit in tight circles. She only managed a few more strokes before she felt Lexa’s walls spasm around her fingers and heard Lexa release her name in a low moan.

Clarke eased Lexa through her climax and then gently pulled out her fingers. She felt Lexa turn over so that she was lying on her back between her legs. She caught her eye before she brought her fingers to her mouth, cleaning them off with her tongue, and she smirked as she saw the way Lexa visibly swallowed at the sight, her normally bright green eyes much darker than usual. She barely had time to pull her fingers from her mouth before Lexa bucked her hips, causing her to lose her balance and fall forward onto Lexa.

Lexa quickly took advantage of Clarke’s new position, taking a nipple into her mouth as she snaked her hands to grip Clarke’s ass and gently push her forward, trailing her fingers down to caress Clarke’s inner thighs every so often.

Clarke reveled in the feeling of Lexa’s tongue on her nipples and knew she was leaving evidence of her arousal on Lexa’s toned stomach as she was pulled forward. Lexa released her nipple and kissed her way down Clarke’s stomach as she continued to use her grip on Clarke’s ass to pull her forward, forcing her to place her hands on the headboard as she maneuvered her so that she was kneeling with her thighs on either side of Lexa’s head.

Lexa moved one of her hands to pinch Clarke’s nipple as she ran her tongue through Clarke’s wet folds, and Clarke grabbed onto the bed’s railings with such force that her knuckles turned white, afraid she would fall over from the sensation if she wasn’t holding on to something.

She slammed her eyes shut as Lexa began to assault her clit with her tongue, canting her hips forward to rock against Lexa’s face. Lexa alternated between swirling lazy circles around Clarke’s clit and flicking over it forcefully, rendering Clarke a wanton mess.

Lexa could feel Clarke getting close as she removed her mouth from her clit and replaced it with her fingers. She looked up to see Clarke’s eyes shut tight, her knuckles white in their death grip on the bed railings and her mouth open in a tiny circle.

“Open your eyes, Clarke,” she said, clicking her voice around the harsh ‘k’ sounds in her name as she always did. “I want you to look into my eyes when you cum.”

Clarke moaned and snapped her eyes open just in time to look down to see Lexa’s eyes staring at her as her tongue darted forward to enter her. She gasped out Lexa’s name as the movement of her hips became increasingly unsteady, and Lexa continued circling Clarke’s clit with her fingers, picking up speed to match the pace of Clarke’s hips.

As she began to dip her tongue in and out of Clarke, savoring her taste, Clarke fell apart completely but forced her eyes to stay open and staring into Lexa’s as her back arched from the force of her orgasm. Seeing the adoration and desire written in Lexa’s gaze only intensified the sensation, and it was several moments before the movement of her hips slowed and she was able to loosen her grip on the railing.

Swinging her leg away from Lexa’s head, she collapsed onto her side next to Lexa, pulling her into a long kiss. She groaned when she recognized the taste of herself on Lexa’s mouth and settled back onto the bed, both of them catching their breath.

When both of them seemed to have calmed the raging storm in their chests, she looked down at Lexa once more, waiting until Lexa returned her gaze before she spoke. “You are true to your people, Lexa, and I know that despite how much you care for me your position will always demand that you choose your people first over me,” Clarke said, and Lexa held her breath as she waited for her to continue.

“Let me make things easier for you. I want to become part of Trikru. I want to become one of your people,” Clarke said softly as she stroked Lexa’s face. Almost immediately Lexa’s eyes began to glisten and the largest smile Clarke had ever seen graced her face as she pulled Clarke forward to press a kiss to her lips.

“Mochof, hodnes, Klark kom Trikru,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa is the ultimate bottom for Clarke, and I will fight you on this.


End file.
